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?  O  U  Eh  g  O  B  O  B  d.  fL, 


THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

The  vieiv  of  St.  Joseph's,  at  or  near  Emmettsburg,  is  taken 
from  an  engraving  given  in  one  of  the  circulars  of  that  in- 
stitution, designed  to  show  the  academy  buildings ;  of  course, 
those  buildings  are  made  the  most  conspicuous  and  promi- 
nent in  the  picture,  but,  by  close  observation,  the  cloister- 
buildings  are  seen  forming  a  large  hollow  square  beyond  the 
chapel  and  the  large  building  occupied  by  the  boarders. 

The  interior  j)lans  of  the  Institution  were  made  by  Mss 
Bunkley,  entirely  from  recollection,  some  months  before  the 
engraving  was  obtained,  and,  of  course,  may  be  in  many  re- 
spects imperfect,  particularly  as  to  the  relative  proportions 
of  the  rooms.  The  gi'ound-plan  was  found  remarkably  cor- 
rect in  the  outline  as  compared  with  the  engraving,  and  in 
reducing  it  to  the  proper  size  for  the  book,  in  accordance 
with  the  engraving,  its  relative  proportions  have  been  but 
little  altered. 

The  cells  are  doubtless  too  few  in  number.  They  are 
drawn  too  large  for  the  scale,  in  order  to  make  them  more 
distinct.  In  the  main,  it  is  believed  that  the  interior  will 
prove  a  correct  delineation,  and  -will  show  an  admirable  ar- 
rangement for  non-intercourse  between  the  community  and 
the  boarding-scholars. 

The  infirmary  building  stands  distant  from  the  cloister 
building  by  the  width  of  the  balcony  or  porch  in  its  rear, 
but  we  have  joined  them,  in  order  to  bring  the  cuts  within 
the  page. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  volume  will  be  found  a  Note,  giv- 
ing a  full  description  of  St.  Joseph's  Institution,  extracted 
from  the  "  Life  of  Mrs.  Seton,"  its  founder ;  published  by 
Dunigan  and  Brother  in  1853.  This  description  came  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  editor  only  as  the  present  work  was 
going  to  press.  The  reader  may,  for  himself,  compare  it 
with  Miss  Bunkley's  delineations ;  they  ^^^ll  be  found  to  cor- 
respond "wdth  remarkable  precision,  though  prepared  by  her 
ill  June  last,  and  without  the  aid  of  any  official  statements. 


MISS  BUIKLEY'S  BOOK. 


THE  TESTIMONY 


OF 


AN    ESCAPED   NOVICE 


FKOM   THE 

SISTERHOOD  OF  ST.  JOSEPH, 

EMMETTSEURG,    MARYLAND, 

THE  MOTHER-HOUSE  OF  THE  SISTERS  OF  CHARITY 
IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


JOSEPHINE  M.  BUNKLEY. 


N 

N  E  W    Y  O  R  K : 

HAKPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQTJAKE. 

1856. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  and  fifty-five,  by 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


r19 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  liistoiy  of  this  book  is  almost  as  remarkable 
as  that  of  its  subject.  Shortly  after  Miss  Bunkley 
had  escaped  from  St.  Joseph's  in  the  manner  she  has 
stated  in  her  narrative,  the  Superior  of  that  convent 
published  a  defamatory  letter  against  her.  This  de- 
cided Miss  Bunkley  not  only  to  defend  herself,  but 
also  to  give  an  exhibition  of  convent  life,  as  it  had 
come  under  her  observation,  for  the  information  and 
warning  of  her  American  countrymen  ;  and,  in  coming 
to  this  determination,  she  did  not  act  on  her  own  judg- 
ment only,  but  availed  herself  of  the  advice  of  judi- 
cious friends,  who  believed  that  it  was  a  sacred  duty 
to  the  American  community  and  the  best  interests  of 
society  to  do  so. 

In  accordance  with  this  resolution,  she  wrote  a  nar- 
rative of  what  she  had  seen  and  heard  while  in  the  in- 
stitution of  St.  Joseph,  and  committed  the  same  for 
revision,  with  other  papers  bearing  on  the  subject,  to 
a  gentleman  in  l^orfolk,  Virginia,  the  city  of  her  father's 
residence. 

This  gentleman,  without  consulting  her,  made  an 
arrangement  with  a  publishing  house  in  the  city  of 


X  ADVERTISEMENT. 

New  York  for  the  publication  of  the  work,  and  sent 
aAvay  a  large  portion  of  the  manuscript,  without  per- 
mitting her  to  read  it  after  he  had  revised  it.  •  This  fact 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  a  friend  in  New  Jersey,  a 
gentleman  of  position  and  great  courage  and  persever- 
ance, who  has  taken  a  deep  interest  in  this  whole  af- 
fair, and  has  enabled  her  to  conduct  the  matter  to  a  suc- 
cessful issue.  Without  delay,  she  demanded,  through 
legal  counsel,  her  narrative  and  other  papers  ;  but  this 
demand  was  refused.  She  was  compelled,  in  these 
circumstances,  to  give  an  order  to  her  counsel  to  file  a 
bill  for  injunction  to  prevent  the  publication.  After 
several  weeks  fruitlessly  spent  by  them  in  endeavor- 
ing to  obtain  possession  of  her  manuscript  for  exam- 
ination, a  bill  of  injunction  was  at  length  filed  in  the 
United  States  Court  to  suppress  the  publication  of  the 
work,  which  had  in  the  mean  time  been  printed,  but 
not  yet  issued. 

A  great  deal  was  said  in  the  newspapers,  political 
and  religious,  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic,  about 
this  affair,  which  induced  ]\Iiss  Bunkley  to  set  forth, 
in  a  card  to  the  public,  that  neither  the  publishers 
referred  to  nor  any  one  else  had  been  authorized  by 
her  to  publish  her  book,  and  stating  that,  in  view  of 
these  circumstances — not  beings  able  to  recover  her 
manuscript — she  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  re- 
writing her  narrative,  which  would,  of  course,  occa- 
sion some  delay  in  its  publication.  That  she  and  her 
friends  had  good  reason  to  pursue  the  course  which 
she  did,  a  very  slight  perusal  of  the  work — a  copy  of 
which  the  publishers  brought  into  court — abundantly 
proved.     Another  injunction  was  also  obtained  on  her 


ADVERTISEMENT.  xi 

likeness  and  autograph,  which  it  was  discovered  had 
been  prepared  for  circidation  with  the  hook. 

Foiled  in  their  attempt  to  bring  before  the  public  the 
work  just  mentioned,  the  parties  in  question  shortly 
after  issued  an  anonymous  and  fictitious  work,  under 
the  title  of  The  Escaped  Xun,  against  which  Miss 
Bunkley  felt  it  to  be  her  duty  to  warn  the  public,  in- 
asmuch as  it  was  spoken  of  in  the  papers  in  some 
quarters  as  her  own. 

Neither  discouraged  by  these  vexatious  disappoint- 
ments, nor  intimidated  by  the  threats  of  the  hierarchy 
of  Rome  and  their  abettors.  Miss  Bunkley,  with  the 
ad^dce  of  reliable  friends,  went  forward,  and,  having 
re- written  her  narrative,  engaged  the  services  of  a  gen- 
tleman, every  way  competent  to  the  task,  to  revise  it 
and  superintend  the  printing  of  her  book.  This  task 
he  has  executed  with  ability  and  fidelity,  and  to  her 
entire  satisfaction. 

]S[ot  a  fact  has  been  distorted ;  not  a  sentiment  has 
been  modified ;  he  has  contented  himself  with  per- 
forming the  office  of  an  editor,  so  far  as  Miss  Bunkley's 
narrative  is  concerned.  He  has,  however,  subjoined 
many  notes,  that  contain  facts  and  statements,  deri\ed 
from  authentic  sources,  which  confirm  the  truth  and 
enhance  the  value  of  the  narrative.  He  also  added 
some  chapters  on  the  whole  question  of  conventual 
establishments,  whi^h  will  command,  as  they  deserve, 
profound  consideration  ;  and  extracts  from  a  long  and 
most  important  letter  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  De  Sanctis, 
who,  from  his  fonner  official  position  in  the  Romish 
Church,  and  at  Rome  itself,  is  well  qualified  to  speak 
on  this  subject.     The  whole  book  will  be  read,  we  are 


Xll  ADVERTISEMENT. 

confident,  with  great  interest  by  our  American  citizens. 
It  sets  before  the  world,  in  a  clear  and  authentic  man- 
ner, the  true  nature  of  convent  life,  even  in  tlie  most 
popular  and  the  most  worthy  (if  we  may  be  allowed 
the  application  of  the  epithet  to  any  such  establish- 
ment) of  all  the  female  "  communities"  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  organization.  The  appearance  of  the  work, 
though  much  delayed  by  the  circumstances  of  which 
we  have  spoken,  will  still  be  opportune,  and  (with 
God's  blessing)  do  much  good. 


MISS  BUNKLEY'S   BOOK. 

CHAPTEE  I. 

IMPRESSIONS    OF  CHILDHOOD. 

The  church  bell  chimed  the  hour  of  prayer ;  sweet- 
ly and  solemnly  the  sound  floated  upon  the  evening 
wind,  as  a  little  child  lingered  to  listen  near  an  old 
church-yard  in  the  city  of  Norfolk.  Heated  and  tired 
with  play,  she  stood  in  the  cool  breeze,  curiously 
watching  the  crowds  of  people  wdio  passed  rapidly  by 
and  flocked  into  the  sanctuary.  The  composed  and 
devout  expression  of  their  countenances,  as  they  ea- 
gerly pressed  forward  to  reach  the  place  in  season,  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  the  child,  who  besought  her 
nurse  to  follow  the  throng  and  enter  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts. Her  attendant — one  of  those  faithful  domes- 
tics of  the  South  who  are  intrusted  with  the  charge  of 
young  children,  and  who  delight  in  obeying  almost 
implicitly  the  commands  of  their  infantile  masters  and 
mistresses  —  readily  consented  ;  and,  crossing  the 
church-yard,  they  passed  into  the  vestibule  of  the  edi- 
flce.  Pausing  with  childish  surprise  to  gaze  at  those 
who  performed  the  ceremony  of  sprinkling  and  cross- 


14  MJ.S8  bcnkley's  nooK. 

irig  themselves  with  holy  water  at  the  door,  the  little 
girl  seated  herself  near  the  entrance.  AYliile  yet  ab- 
sorbed with  the  novelty  of  her  position,  and  admiring- 
ly alive  to  the  wonders  that  presented  themselves  to 
her  view,  the  deep  tones  of  the  organ  swelled  forth  in 
a  melody  of  such  sm-passing  sweetness  that  she  clasp- 
ed her  hands  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight ;  and  turning  to 
her  nurse,  her  innocent  face  radiant  with  pleasure,  she 
whispered,  "How  sweet!  how  beautiful!"  The  mu- 
sic ceased,  but  left  that  young  susceptible  heart  en- 
tranced, bewildered,  captivated.  With  wondering  de- 
light she  continued  to  gaze  upon  the  scene  before  her: 
the  altar  with  its  rich  decorations,  the  burning  tajDcrs, 
the  ascending  cloud  of  incense,  the  paintings,  the  gor- 
geous vestments  of  the  priests,  the  successive  acts  and 
postures  that  contribute  to  the  dramatic  effect  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  ritual — all  this  she  beheld  for  the  first 
time  in  rapt  and  mute  astonishment.  It  was  as  if 
some  heavenly  vision  were  opened  to  her  inspection, 
and  emotions  newly  awakened  and  indefinable  flutter- 
ed in  her  bosom.  The  pleasing  variety  of  sounds,  the 
sweet  perfume  of  aromatic  exhalations,  the  unwonted, 
the  imposing  solemnities  before  her,  the  sentiment  of 
reverential  awe  that  breathed  in  all  around — all  con- 
tributed to  enhance  the  imj^ression  of  the  senses,  and 
caused  her  heart  to  throb  with  pleasurable  excitement ; 
and  when,  the  service  over,  she  rose  and  took  the  hand 
of  her  nurse  to  return  homeward,  the  child  sighed 
deeply,  even  as  one  aroused  from  happy  dreams  to. the 
dull  realities  of  common  life. 

But  far  different  were  the  impressions  made  by  this 
incident  from  those  of  a  passing  dream.     They  were 


IMPRESSIONS   OF   CHILDHOOD.  15 

deep  and  abiding,  and  were  destined  to  control — oli ! 
liow  much  and  liow  powerfully! — the  after  life  of  that 
child,  upon  whose  sensitive  being  the  seductive  allure- 
ments of  a  sensual  system  had  thus,  at  the  early  age 
of  six  years,  produced  marked  and  permanent  effects. 
Kesults  of  momentous  importance  floAved  from  these 
simple  causes,  which,  operating  so  easily  and  so  nat- 
urally upon  the  delicate  organism  of  childhood,  were 
yet  no  random  or  accidental  influences,  but  directed 
with  the  nicest  calculation,  in  accordance  with  the 
most  consummate  knowledge  of  the  intricacies  of  the 
human  heart,  in  every  stage  of  its  development  from 
the  cradle  to  the  grave — a  knowledge  ever  applied  with 
unscrupulous  skill  and  inflexible  purpose  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  interests  of  the  Church  and  the  sub- 
servience of  her  designs. 

Eeader,  the  little  child  of  this  slight  episode,  as  the 
subject  of  these  artful  machinations,  and  in  after  years 
the  witness  of  their  cruel  success,  narrates  in  the  fol- 
lowing pages  her  unvarnished  story.  How  similar  al- 
lurements, one  by  one,  like  the  threads. of  a  strong  net, 
were  cast  around  her ;  how  other  and  more  overt  influ- 
ences were  woven  in,  till  mind  and  body  were  alike 
enthralled ;  what  schemes,  what  arts,  what  arrogance 
and  tyranny  she  beheld  and  suffered  while  under  the 
restraints  and  within  the  toils  of  Romanism — these 
will  constitute  the  burden  of  her  narrative. 


16  MISS   BUNKLEY^S   BOOK. 


CHAPTER  II. 

EAELY  IMPEESSIOXS  DEEPENED. 

The  imaginative  and  impressible  disposition  thus 
early  indicated  was  developed  in  cliildhood,  not  alto- 
gether without  the  control  and  guidance  of  a  religious 
education.  I  can  not  recall  the  time  when  my  heart 
was  not  imbued  with  a  natural  reverence  for  sacred 
things,  or  when  they  had  not  already  awakened  in  my 
mind  a  strong  and  unaffected  interest.  But  these  in- 
clinations, common  to  most  of  those  who  have  been 
trained  up  under  Christian  nurture  and  admonition, 
did  not  then  lead  me  to  that  simple  and  humble  ap- 
prehension of  the  saving  truths  of  the  Gospel,  which 
would  have  satisfied  the  longings  of  a  restless  heart, 
and  obtained  for  it  that  peace  which  it  vainly  sought 
in  a  system  of  ceremonial  forms.  Lofty  aspirations 
that  reached  toward  some  ideal  good,  unseen  and  un- 
comprehended  by  all  around  me,  drew  me  away  from 
that  lowly  position  where,  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross  of 
Calvary,  I  might  have  realized  the  ardent  desires  of  a 
soul  seeking  communion  with  its  Maker.  These  very 
aspirations  were  bringing  me  toward  that  religion 
v/hich  offered  them  their  full  consummation,  without 
apparently  requiring  all  the  sacrifice  of  ambition  and 
pride  which  the  sterner  doctrines  of  the  Bible  demand. 


EARLY  IMPEESSIONS  DEEPENED.        17 

The  recollections  of  those  brilliant  and  attractive 
rites  which  had  been  witnessed  with  dehght  and  won- 
der in  early  childhood,  served  as  a  continual  contrast 
with  the  severe  simpHcity  of  the  Protestant  worship, 
and  the  rigid  requirements  of  the  Protestant  faith. 
Often  were  these  alluring  ceremonies  resorted  to,  and 
with  increasing  pleasure,  as  my  disrelish  for  the  relig- 
ion of  my  childhood  grew  stronger.  The  fanciful  but 
plausible  and  poetic  explanation  of  the  services  I  be- 
held interested  me.  I  saw  beauty  in  the  symbolic 
ritual  of  Eomanism,  and  began  to  inquire  into  the  doc- 
trinal basis  of  this  edifice  so  stately  and  fair,  upon 
wdiose  threshold  already  I  stood. 

]My  parents  were  worshipers  in  the  Protestant  Epis- 
copal Church,  and  from  childhood  I  was  educated  in 
the  doctrines  of  that  Church,  attending  its  public  min- 
istrations, and  receiving  instruction  in  the  Sabbath- 
school.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  I  was  solicited  to  pre- 
sent myself  for  Confirmation,  but  I  steadily  refused  to 
do  so,  my  attachment  having  been  estranged  already, 
if  not  entirely  diverted  to  another  system  of  worship. 
It  was  then  that  I  came  to  the  definite  conclusion  of 
investigating  the  tenets  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church. 
I  commenced  the  reading -of  books  explanatory  of  those 
tenets.  These  works  were  willingly  furnished  me  by 
Eoman  CathoHc  acquaintances,  who  had  learned  my 
sentiments,  and  who,  without  directly  and  openly  in- 
terfering to  bias  my  convictions,  urged  me,  with  seem- 
ing candor  and  liberality,  to  acquaint  myself  with 
"both  sides"  of  the  controversy,  and  to  distinguish 
between  the  good  and  the  evil  of  a  system  so  common- 
ly misrepresented.     Thus  the  very  disposition  to  rise 


18  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

superior  to  vulgar  prejudices,  and  exercise  an  inde- 
pendent andresponsible  judgment  in  matters  of  belief, 
was  made  a  snare  to  me,  as  it  has  been  to  multitudes 
of  youthful  minds.  Let  me  caution  such  against  this 
hidden  danger.  There  is  but  one  infallible  guide  to 
all  spiritual  truth.  Without  his  direction,  no  research 
of  intellect  is  lawful,  or  can  be  fruitful  of  good.  The 
indications  of  his  presence  and  assistance  are  fqlt  and 
manifested  only  in  that  honest,  humble,  teachable,  and 
self-distrustful  temper,  which  becomes  and  invariably 
distinguishes  the  searcher  after  truth.  One  who  has 
most  painfully  felt  the  possibility  of  self-deception,  in 
the  blind  following  out  of  hastily-formed  opinions,  and 
concession  to  the  impulsive  promptings  of  a  misguided 
enthusiasm,  would-  fain  warn  others  to  heed  the  coun- 
sels of  the  wise  and  virtuous,  the  mature  and  experi- 
enced around  them,  before  they  commit  their  spiritual 
welfare  and  their  temporal  happiness  to  the  guidance 
of  men  presumptuously  aiTOgating  to  themselves  the 
prerogative  of  Deity.  The  pure  ray  of  heavenly  light 
will  attract  and  illuminate  those  only  who  steadily 
turn  aside  their  gaze  from  the  glare  of  delusive  phan- 
tasms, which  amuse,  but  bewilder  and  lead  astray. 
God's  word  alone  can  furnish  that  safe  and  unerring 
guidance ;  God's  spirit  only  can  teach  infallibly  the 
soul.  ■         , 


DOUBTS   AND   HESITATIONS.  19 


CHAPTEE  III. 

DOUBTS   AND    HESITATIONS. 

It  were  needless  to  recount  tlie  various  phases  of 
mind  througli  which  I  passed  during  the  two  years  pre- 
ceding my  entrance  upon  a  membership  of  the  Eoman 
Catholic  Church.  It  was,  as  I  imagined,  a  deliberate 
course  of  mature  reflection  that  led  me  thither.  Fas- 
cinated by  the  tinsel  glitter  and  pompous  parade  that 
conceal  the  internal  hollovfness  and  corruption  of  pop- 
ery, I  was  ill  prepared,  however,  at  the  age  of  sixteen, 
to  weigh  arguments  and  discriminate  between  conflict- 
ing statements.  Charmed  by  the  consonance  of  those 
doctrines  of  penance  and  supererogation  which  I  now 
learned,  with  my  previously  conceived  notions  of  self- 
exertion  and  merit,  I  fondly  hoped  that,  in  becoming  a 
Roman  Catholic,  I  might  discover  objects  to  attract 
the  intellect  and  engage  the  heart,  exalted  sanctity 
and  spiritual  repose. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this  growing  tendency 
was  unobserved  and  unopposed  by  my  Protestant 
friends,  nor  that  their  remonstrances  failed  entirely  to 
infuse  doubt  and  hesitation.  Often  I  seemed  to  stand 
upon  the  brink  of  a  fathomless  abyss,  looking  off  from 
the  precipice  for  some  ray  of  light  that  might  show  me 
a  deliverance  from  the  difficulties  that  encompassed 


20  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

me.  Sometimes,  indeed,  the  fear  would  rise  lest,  un- 
der tlie  pressure  of  perplexity  and  distress,  my  mind 
would  utterly  give  way.  x4l11  other  thoughts  were  ex- 
cluded while  this  one  question  of  duty  was  incessantly 
revolved.  As  my  purpose  of  entering  the  Church  of 
Rome  became  confirmed,  my  friends  sought  to  divert 
my  thoughts  from  the  subject.  They  urged  me  to 
abandon  the  seclusion  to  which  I  had  devoted  myself, 
and  endeavored  to  revive  my  spirits  in  scenes  of  amuse- 
ment and  gayety.  Finding  this  ineffectual,  my  par- 
ents sent  me  to  spend  some  time  in  the  family  of  a 
friend,  a  Protestant  clergyman  at  Baltimore,  during 
which  time  I  was  not  allowed  an  opportunity  of  at- 
tending the  Roman  Catholic  service ;  but,  at  the  ex- 
piration of  my  visit,  I  returned  to  Norfolk  unaltered 
in  my  desire  to  seek  that  peace  of  mind  for  which  I 
was  longing,  where  so  many  assured  me  that  I  would 
find  it.  The  impressions  fastened  by  early  associa- 
tions, and  by  many  concurrent  influences  later,  were 
not  of  a  nature  to  be  dispelled  by  the  frivolities  of 
fashionable  society.  In  these  I  found  not  even  a  tran- 
sient satisfaction.  I  had  no  wish  to  become  a  votary 
of  the  world ;  no  disposition  to  look  for  happiness  in 
its  trifling  pursuits.  The  sole  alternative  that  seemed 
to  present  itself  to  a  complete  absorption  in  the  follies 
and  vanities  of  earth,  was  that  refuge  which,  as  I  was 
ever  reminded  by  sympathetic  and  attentive  counsel- 
ors, the  true  Church  offered  within  her  encircling  arms 
to  all  that  were  harassed  with  doubt,  and  wearied  with 
the  cares  of  this  evil  world. 


FIRST  VISIT  TO   THE   SISTEES.  21 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

FIRST   YISIT   TO   THE    SISTERS. 

It  was  a  lovely  June  evening,  shortly  after  my  re- 
turn from  the  visit  just  referred  to,  wlien  I  wended  my 
way  toward  the  house  occupied  by  the  Sisters  of  Char- 
ity at  Norfolk.     I  had  reached  the  decision  of  making 
known  my  spiritual  state  to  them,  and  seeking  advice 
and  direction,  hut  without  the  knowledge  or  consent 
of  my  parents,  whose  opposition  to  my  change  of  re- 
hgious  connection  continued  as   strong   as   ever.      I 
ascended  the  steps  and  rang  the  bell;  a  little  orphan 
child  obeyed  the  summons  ;  and,  having  asked  for  the 
Superior  Sister,  I  was  ushered  into  the  parlor.     It  was 
a  plainly-furnished  apartment,  with  darkened  windows 
admitting  barely  hght  enough  to  distinguish  the  vari- 
ous objects.     After  a  short  interval  I  heard  a  light 
step ;    the  door  opened,  and  Sister  Aloysia,  then  the 
Superior  Sister  there,  advanced  to  receive  me.      She 
was  dressed  in  a  black  habit,  with  a  white  Knen  col- 
lar neatly  turned  over  the  cape ;  her  face,  which  was 
very  pale,  nearly  concealed  by  a  black  cambric  cap 
drawn  closely  around  her  head.     Her  beads  were  sus- 
pended from  her  waist,  and  she  kept  her  hands  clasp- 
ed before  her  breast.     I  introduced  myself,  and  in- 
formed her  of  the  purpose  of  my  visit.     Smiling  pleas- 


22  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

antly,  she  led  me  to  a  window  overlooking  the  grounds 
of  the  institution,  and,  partly  opening  the  shutters,  she 
bade  me  seat  myself  near  her,  and  begged  me  to  o-pen 
my  heart  to  her  without  reserve.  I  did  so.  I  told 
her  of  my  wants,  my  aspirations,  my  uneasiness  as  to 
my  eternal  safety,  and  my  hope  that  in  the  bosom  of 
the  Catholic  Church  I  might  find  peace  and  rest.  I 
told  her  that,  having  had  little  opportunity  of  inform- 
ing myself  thoroughly  on  the  subject,  I  had  embraced 
the  resolution  of  coming  to  her  for  counsel  and  instruc- 
tion. When  I  ceased,  she  clasped  my  hands  in  hers, 
and  with  cordial  tones  assured  me  how  vvillingly  she 
would  endeavor  to  assist  me  in  my  inquiries,  and  sat- 
isfy my  scruples  and  doubts.  After  a  long  and  friend- 
ly conversation,  she  invited  me  to  see  the  chapel,  which 
was  in  the  second  story  of  the  building,  and  at  that 
time  was  in  quite  an  unfinished  state.  As  we  entered, 
she  knelt  reverently  before  the  altar,  and  said  a  short 
prayer,  and  then,  taking  thence  a  crucifix,  she  devout- 
ly kissed  it,  remarking,  "  How  can  Protestants  be  so 
blind  as  to  reject  the  cross  on  the  ground  that  it  savors 
of  popery,  when  they  know  that  all  their  own  hopes 
of  salvation  must  hang  upon  it  ?" 

I  left  the  house,  promising  to  return  after  a  few 
days.  My  second  visit  Avas  not  less  pleasing  and  en- 
couraging :  the  sister  urged  me  to  persevere,  assuring 
me  that  I  would  overcome  all  obstacles,  and  that  in 
due  time  my  family  would  cease  to  oppose  my  enter- 
ing the  Church.  At  my  third  visit,  she  counseled  jne 
to  make  known  the  state  of  my  mind  to  a  priest. 
Meanwhile,  however,  my  friends,  having  discovered  my 
determination  to  embrace  Romanism,  again  sent  me 


FIRST    VISIT   TO    THE    SISTERS.  23 

into  the  country.  Having  returned  after  an  absence 
of  a  few  weeks,  I  resumed  my  visits  to  tlie  Sisters  of 
Cliaritj.  A  considerable  change  in  the  appearance  of 
the  house  had  taken  place  since  my  last  visit ;  the 
parlors  were  newly  furnished,  the  chapel  beautiful- 
ly adorned,  and  the  grounds  of  the  institution  taste- 
fully laid  out.  The  Superior  Sister  whose  acquaint- 
ance I  had  formerly  made  was  no  longer  there ;  she 
Jiad  been  ordered  to  another  station,  and  in  her  place 
I  found  one  who,  by  her  shrewdness  and  plausibility, 
was  well  fitted  to  fill  the  station  to  which  she  had  been 
appointed.  With  five  others  she  conducted  a  small 
day-school,  composed  of  orphan  children  as  well  as  of 
some  whose  parents  were  well  able  to  remunerate 
them  for  their  services  as  teachers. 

The  priest  was  now  informed  that  I  desired  an  in- 
terview. A  time  was  appointed  for  the  purpose,  and 
as  such  a  visit  to  me  could  not  be  agreeable  to  my 
family,  it  was  arranged  that  I  should  call  at  his  resi- 
dence. I  was  accompanied  by  a  young  lady,  a  Roman 
Catholic  friend,  who  was  educated  at  St.  Joseph's,  and 
made  a  convert  there,  she  being  appointed  by  the 
piiest  to  accompany  me,  and  was  received  very  kindly 
by  the  priest,  who  undertook  to  inform  me  fully  as  to 
the  doctrines  and  practices  of  the  Church.  A  few 
weeks  elapsed,  during  the  course  of  which  I  repeated 
my  visit  to  my  spiritual  adviser,  and  at  length  a  day 
was  fixed  for  my  formal  admission  into  the  Church  of 
Rome. 


24  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    "BAR   OF    CONSCIENCE." 

PeepakaTORY  to  that  formal  reception  into  the 
Chui'ch  which  I  now  sought,  tiie  candidate  is  required 
to  make,  in  the  sacrament  of  penance,  a  full  and  gen- 
eral confession  of  all  the  sins  of  past  life,  in  order  that 
the  priest,  by  this  secret  and  solemn  communication, 
may  be  acquainted  with  all  the  experiences  of  the 
mind  he  desires  to  guide.  This  office  is  conducted 
tenderly  and  adroitly  with  the  young  convert,  who  nat- 
urally shrinks  at  first  from  the  disclosure  of  her  in- 
most thoughts  and  feelings.  The  kind  demeanor,  the 
parental  solicitude  exhibited  by  him  whom  she  is  now 
taught  to  address  by  the  endearing  name  of  father,  to- 
gether with  the  impression  of  reverence  due  to  his  pre- 
sumed sanctity  and  purity,  combine  most  artfully  and 
efficaciously  to  overcome  her  timid  reluctance.  For 
myself,  in  the  fresh  zeal  and  anxiety  of  a  young  pros- 
elyte, I  was  not  disposed  to  evade  any  means  pre- 
scribed for  attaining  the  peace  of  mind  for  which  I 
was  longing.  Convinced  of  the  divine  claims  and  au- 
thority of  the  Church,  and  feeling  safe  only  in  follow- 
ing out  the  advice  of  my  constituted  teachers,  I  thought 


THE   "BAR   OP   CONSCIENCE."  25 

myself  but  too  happy  if  permitted  to  hope  that  in  the 
path  they  pointed  out  I  could  find  the  promised  re- 
ward. I  approached  the  "bar  of  conscience"  as  the 
requisite  medium  of  preparation  for  worthily  receiving 
the  Holy  Communion — the  great  channel  for  the  con- 
veyance of  spiritual  grace  to  the  soul. 

Auricular  confession  is  the  chief  and  most  potent 
appliance  by  which  the  Church  of  Rome  gains  ascend- 
ency,  and  retains  supreme    control    over   individual 
minds  and  bodies.     Without  it,  she  were  a  powerless 
mechanism,  a  huge,  inert  mass,  deprived  of  its  motive 
power  and  ruling  energy.     Take  away  this  key-stone 
of  the  arch  that  supports  the  gorgeous  structure,  and 
the  whole  edifice,  with  all  its  architectural  strength  and 
magnificence,  will  crumble  into  ruins.    It  is  the  grand 
secret  of  her  success ;  the  mystery  of  that  tenacious 
fortitude  with  which  she  has  endured  the  countless  at- 
tacks that  have  threatened  her  stability  ;  the  sovereign 
remedy  that  heals  the  wounds  inflicted  by  her  assail- 
ants, counteracts  the  effects  of  inward  disease,   and 
repairs  the  ravages  of  successive  reforms  and  vast  nu- 
merical losses.     Superficial  observers  ascribe  the  influ- 
ence she  exerts  to  the  charm  of  her  ostentatious  cere- 
monies and  her  imposing  ritual ;  to  the  theatrical  dis- 
play and  sensual  appeal  of  her  worship.     These  are 
indeed  the  agencies  that  at  first  attract^  but  it  is  the 
revealments  of  the  confessional  that  retain.     These 
are  the  bands  of  flowers  thrown  around  the  youthful 
victim  to  draw  her  to  the  altar ;  but  the  ordinance  of 
confession  is  the  sharp  hook  of  steel  that  grapples  her 
till  the  sacrifice  be  accomplished.     The  robes,  the  cru- 
cifix, the  pictures,  the  incense,  the  mass,  the  invorca- 
B 


26  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tion  of  saints,  the  thousand  and  one  enchanting  and 
gorgeous  rites,  make  up,  indeed,  an  attractive  image, 
apparently  possessed  of  vitahty  and  vigor ;  but  con- 
fession, as  it  were,  completes  the  galvanic  circle  that 
keeps  the  form  erect  and  active.  Detach  this,  and  the 
figure  falls,  a  pale,  corrupting  corpse,  to  the  ground. 

Well  is  this  vast  potency  of  the  confessional  known 
to  the  priesthood  of  the  Church  of  E-ome,  and  hence 
the  solicitude  and  the  zeal  with  which  it  has  been  up- 
held and  defended.  So  fully  conscious  are  they  of  its 
importance,  of  its  indispensable  value,  that  sooner 
would  they  part  with  any  other  cherished  doctrine  or 
institution  than  with  this,  the  most  useful  of  all.  Its 
capabilities,  indeed,  can  hardly  be  measured  by  calcu- 
lation. Through  its  agency  the  hidden  thoughts  and 
tendencies  of  the  mind,  the  disposition,  the  temper,  the 
temptations,  the  weaknesses  of  every  penitent,  are  laid 
bare  to  the  inspection  of  the  priest,  who  may  then  di- 
rect and  mould  them  at  his  will.  By  this  channel  he 
becomes  familiar  with  the  thoughts  and  feelings,  not 
only  of  those  under  his  immediate  charge,  but  also  of 
all  with  whom  these  individual  penitents  may  come  in 
contact ;  and  thus  the  wide  circles  of  society  are  open- 
ed to  his  intrigues  and  contrivances,  to  make  prose- 
lytes, to  confound  the  enemies  of  the  Church,  or  to  ac- 
complish other  and  fouler  purposes.  Is  there  a  Cath- 
olic in  the  cabinet:  what  state  secret  remains  un- 
known to  the  confessor  ?  Has  a  Catholic  been  initi- 
ated into  the  mysteries  of  Freemasonry  or  Odd  Fel- 
lowship :  does  any  one  suppose  that  these  will  remain 
unrevealed  to  the  priests  ?  Happy,  it  may  be,  are  those 
who,  in  their  ignorance,  are  unconscious  of  this  far- 


THE   "BAR   OF   CONSCIENCE."  27 

reaching  influence ;  for  communities  and  nations  would 
tremble  could  they  but  realize  the  dangers  to  which 
they  are  exposed  through  the  power  of  the  Komish 
confessional. 


28 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MY  FIRST  CONFESSION  AND  BAPTISM. 

At  the  appointed  hour  of  the  day  fixed  for  my  first 
confession,  I  was  anxiously  awaiting  in  the  parlor  of 
the  house  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  the  summons  that 
should  call  me  to  the  little  chapel  where  I  was  to  meet 
my  spiritual  instructor.  It  was  already  dusk  when 
the  message  came ;  and  following  the  sister  who  had 
brought  it,  I  entered  the  door,  drew  aside  the  curtain 
that  screened  it,  and  knelt  on  a  hassock  before  a  small 
table,  at  which  was  seated  the  confessor.  The  chapel 
was  dark,  illumined  only  by  the  flickering  light  of  a 
small  lamp  that  burned  before  the  altar,  which  was 
decorated  with  vases  of  beautiful  flowers,  while  from 
the  wall  above  it  were  suspended  several  exquisite 
paintings. 

With  bowed  head,  and  in  trembling  tones,  from  the 
depths  of  my  soul  I  poured,  without  reserve,  the  feel- 
ings and  thoughts  of  my  whole  life  into  the  ear  of  one 
whom  I  considered  my  earthly  guide ;  whose  duty  it 
was  to  reprove,  instruct,  console  the  subjects  of  his 
care  with  unremitting  diligence,  until  he  should  deliver 
up  his  trust  to  that  God  who  had  commissioned  him 
for  the  solemn  task.  ^ly  confession  made,  he  breathed 
over  my  head  a  prayer  so  touching  and  sublime  that 


MY    FIRST   CONFESSION    AND    BAPTISM.  29 

my  faith  seemed  strengthened  and  my  spirit  cahiied 
by  its  holy  influence.  Relief  from  all  those  anxieties 
and  perplexities  which  had  long  wearied  me  seemed 
at  length  within  my  reach ;  I  felt  myself  raised  above 
the  atmosphere  of  earth,  and  entering  upon  a  sanctuary 
of  repose  whence  I  had  no  desire  to  retrace  my  steps 
into  the  world. 

I  was  directed  to  return  within  a  few  days  for  a 
second  confession,  and  upon  that  occasion  I  received 
absolution.  Arrangements  were  now  to  be  made  for 
my  public  reception  into  the  Church  ;  and,  according- 
ly, it  was  decided  that  upon  "Holy  Saturday,"  or  the 
day  after  Good  Friday,  I  should  be  "  conditionally" 
baptized. 

Individuals  entering  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
if  they  have  been  baptized  in  infancy  by  Protestant 
Episcopal  clergymen,  are  not  absolutely  required  to 
receive  the  ordinance  a  second  time ;  but,  lest  there 
may  have  been  some  omission  in  its  performance,  which 
would  render  the  rite  invalid  according  to  the  Romish 
conception  of  it,  the  sacrament  of  baptism  is  then  ad- 
ministered by  the  priest  in  a  hypothetical  or  condi- 
tional manner. 

On  the  morning  of  "  Holy  Saturday,"  without  the 
knowledge  of  my  parents,  I  left  my  house  for  the  pur- 
pose of  visiting  a  Roman  Catholic  family  who  resided 
near  the  church,  and  at  whose  house  I  was  to  prepare 
for  the  sacred  ordinance.  A  simple  white  dress  had 
been  provided  for  the  occasion,  with  a  long  white  veil 
of  muslin,  falling  over  the  shoulders  and  reaching  to 
the  floor.  No  ornament  was  to  be  worn  save  a  gold 
cross  suspended  from  the  neck. 


30  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

The  ceremony  had  been  widely  made  known,  and 
the  church  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  curious  spec- 
tators long  before  the  service  began.  '  The  moment 
having  arrived,  I  passed  through  the  sacristy  into  the 
church,  and  took  my  seat  in  a  pew  in  front  of  the  altar. 
The  priest  soon  entered,  and  we  proceeded  down  the 
aisle  to  the  door  of  the  church,  where  stood  the  marble 
font  filled  with  water,  which  he  now  consecrated  for 
use  in  the  sacred  ordinance.  The  usual  ceremonies 
were  performed:  a  lighted  candle  was  put  into  my 
hand  ;  I  was  anointed  with  oil ;  salt  was  placed  upon 
my  tongue  ;  I  responded  to  the  questions  asked  of  me, 
and  returned  to  my  pew  a  baptized  member  of  that 
Church  whose  fellowship  I  had  so  earnestly  craved. 
The  following  morning  was  Easter,  the  festival  of  the 
Resun-ection,  and  upon  that  holy  day  I  made  my  first 
communion. 

Did  these  formalities  of  profession  realize  my  long- 
indulged  dreams  of  comfort  and  peace  ?  Did  I  enjoy 
that  complete  tranquillity  promised  by  the  Church  to 
all  who,  in  the  proper  reception  of  those  sacraments 
which  are  the  channels  of  Divine  grace  to  the  souls  of 
her  children,  repose  upon  her  bosom,  forsaking  all 
other  trust?  I  was,  indeed,  most  happy.  A  deep 
sense  of  security  in  the  possession  of  the  only  true  and 
efiectual  system  of  salvation  filled  my  spirit  with  calm 
and  joy.  Morning  after  morning  found  me  low  bend- 
ing in  prayer  before  the  altar  of  the  chapel  attached  to 
the  church  where  I  had  taken  my  solemn  vows.  Even- 
ing after  evening  was  spent  in  pious  conversation  with 
the  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  in  rapt  meditation  at  that 
shrine  where  I  had  made  my  first  confession.     ]\Iy 


MY   FIKST    CONFESSION   AND    BAPTISM.  31 

only  happiness  was  now  centred  in  these  blissful  mo- 
ments, and  again  and  again  did  I  bless  that  Church 
who  had  thus  conquered  my  affections  and  taken  cap- 
tive my  will. 

But  how  far  removed  this  security,  this  mystical 
repose,  these  absorbed  contemplations,  from  the  spirit 
and  the  practice  of  the  Gospel  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
I  can  now  at  length  perceive  as  I  could  not  then. 
That  prayerful  dependence  upon  a  crucified  and  risen 
Savior,  which  is  the  Bible  Christian's  only  hope  and 
support ;  that  conscious  assurance  of  pardon  and  rec- 
onciliation through  his  blood ;  those  delightful  views 
of  his  holiness,  his  condescension,  his  love,  in  the  work 
of  redemption  ;  that  filial  obedience  which  springs  from 
the  strong  emotion  of  gratitude  and  the  desire  of  self- 
consecration  to  his  service — instead  of  these  blessed 
enjoyments  of  the  Gospel  believer,  I  was  drawing  all 
my  strength  from  a  human  and  earthly  source.  My 
Christ,  the  object  of  my  devotion,  the  support  of  my 
hope,  the  confidant  of  all  my  deepest  interior  wants, 
desires,  and  resolutions,  was  the  Church.  I  accepted 
and  trusted,  not  God's  word,  but  the  creed  of  the 
Church.  I  relied  upon  and  rejoiced  in,  not  God's 
promises,  but  those  of  the  Church ;  my  performance 
of  required  duties  arose,  not  from  the  thankful  and 
grateful  consideration  of  the  past  mercies  and  present 
favors  of  a  reconciled  God,  but  from  the  hope  of  ac- 
quiring future  defense  and  safety  promised  to  those 
who  blindly  follow  the  commands  and  precepts  of  the 
Church.  It  was  not  from  a  serious  and  adequate  per- 
ception of  the  sinfulness  of  my  own  heart ;  of  the  ho- 
liness and  justice  of  God ;  of  my  danger  as  a  guilty 


32  MISS  bunklf.y's  book. 

:ind  sentenced  transgressor,  that  my  religious  convic- 
tions proceeded,  but  rather  from  a  poetic  sensibility ; 
from  a  weak  desire  of  passive  quiet  and  spiritual  inac- 
tion ;  from  a  purpose  to  work  out  my  own  righteous- 
ness by  deeds  of  meritorious  value,  in  preference  to  an 
humble  reliance  upon  the  righteousness  of  Christ  which 
is  by  faith.  That  such  sentiments  and  views  should 
have  led  me  to  a  temporary  delusion  in  the  bosom  of 
the  Church  of  Rome  is  not  to  be  wondered  at ;  that 
they  should  have  given  me  no  permanent  and  well- 
founded  repose  is  still  less  a  matter  of  surprise. 


ATTRACTIONS   OF   THE   CLOISTER.  33 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

ATTEACTIONS    OF   THE    CLOISTER. 

It  is  not  in  the  power  of  a  religion  of  forms  and  will- 
worship  to  render  pleasant  and  promotive  of  spiritual 
comfort  those  cares  and  duties  which  belong  to  an  or- 
dinary course  of  life.  The  intelligent  Christian,  in- 
deed, may  find  in  these  employments  an  opportunity 
of  continual  obedience,  and  a  channel  of  communica- 
tion with  his  Savior,  who  enables  him,  in  whatever  he 
is  doing,  to  glorify  God.  But  the  priest-taught  and 
governed  subject  of  Rome  learns  to  regard  all  the  con- 
cerns of  earth  as  contradictory  to  his  spiritual  frame 
of  life — as  conflicting  with  that  ascetic  estrangement 
from  all  the  engagements  of  mortality ;  that  mystical 
elevation  above  human  affection  and  emotion,  which  is 
the  highest  grade  of  meritorious  attainment.  Thus, 
either  in  the  first  ardor  of  conversion,  or  when  the 
false  comforts  of  her  system  have  been  tried  and  found 
wanting,  the  Church  of  Rome  whispers  to  her  disciple 
longings  for  the  perfect  holiness  and  absolute  repose  of 
the  secluded  convent.  To  be  truly  "  religious^'''  signi- 
fies, in  her  distorted  language,  not  to  illustrate  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel  in  all  those  humble  but  sanc- 
tified employments  that  belong  to  the  lot  where  God 
has  placed  us,  but  to  fly  from  tlie  scene  of  trial,  and 
B2 


34  MLSs  bunkley's  book. 

to  abandon  the  relations  of  our  providential  position, 
and  to  waste,  in  a  condition  of  passivity  and  mental 
vacuity,  the  precious  moments  of  probation. 

My  religious  advisers  were  not  slow  to  suggest  such 
longings  to  my  mind,  and  I  was  well  prepared  to  en- 
tertain them.  Home  and  society  had  already  lost  their 
charms,  and  the  details  of  domestic  life  had  become  a 
painful  burden.  I  found  delight  only  in  the  contem- 
plative retirement  of  the  sanctuary  to  which  I  daily 
resorted,  and  in  the  performance  of  religious  practices 
which  had  not  yet  lost  their  novelty.  I  Avas  now  led 
to  dw^ell  much  upon  the  happiness  of  those  favored 
ones  who  are  enabled  to  abstract  themselves  entirely 
from  the  temptations  and  anxieties  of  the  world,  and 
dedicate  their  time  without  reserve  to  the  service  of 
God.  The  cloister,  I  was  assured,  affords  a  safe  re- 
treat to  all  who  would  soar  above  the  atmosphere  of 
earthly  love,  and  gaze  upon  the  ]3ure  light  of  holiness 
and  heaven.  There  I  might  find,  in  the  perfect  love 
of  God,  a  depth  of  peace,  a  complete  repose,  such  as 
the  blessed  on  high  are  enjoying.  There  are  natures, 
I  was  told — and  to  these  I  felt  that  mine  belonged — 
so  exalted  in  their  aspirations,  that  human  affections 
can  never  supply  the  void  of  their  hearts.  Often  did 
I  hear  described  in  glowing  words  the  condition  of  holy 
men  and  women  who  had  turned  all  their  thoughts 
away  from  earth,  consecrated  all  their  powders  to  God, 
and  spent  their  lives  in  ceaseless  contemplation  and 
adoring  love.  I  aspired  to  this  perfection.  At  the 
church,  in  the  chapel,  in  my  daily  private  devotions, 
I  earnestly  besought  Almighty  God  to  make  known 
his  will  concerning  me.     I  desired  to  devote  my  life 


ATTRACTIONS   OF   THE    CLOISTER.  35 

to  liis  service ;  yet  reason  could  not  but  revolt  from 
the  monstrous  supposition  that  God,  who  had  given 
me  affections  and  talents  capable  of  use,  would  be 
more  honored  by  crushing  them  within  the  walls  of  a 
cloister,  by  wasting  strength  in  inaction,  by  burying 
the  heart  in  a  living  sepulchre.  If  such  were  his  de- 
signs, then  he  had  created  but  to  blight  the  energies 
of  his  creatures ;  and  every  object  of  beauty  that  his 
hand  had  formed  on  earth  was  made  without  profit  for 
man,  thus  to  be  shut  out  from  the  enjoyment  of  the 
natural  world. 

I  indulged  not  unfrequently  in  these  reflections, 
and,  as  usual,  opened  my  heart  freely  to  those  whom 
I  had  taken  for  my  religious  guides.  But  all  such 
ideas  I  was  told  to  regard  as  the  suggestions  of  evil ; 
as  temptations  of  the  adversary,  who  would  fain  cheat 
me  of  my  blessed  calling  to  a  perfect  and  entire  devo- 
tion to  the  religious  life.  I  was  brought  to  feel  that 
in  the  service  of  God  the  sacrifice  of  all  these  earthly 
considerations  was  but  lightly  to  be  esteemed.  Yes, 
thought  I,  if  this  be  God's  will,  I  will  renounce  the 
world;  I  will  break  off  every  natural  tie,  and  yield 
myself  up  a  willing  offering  upon  the  altar  of  self-con- 
secration.* 

*  Thus  it  is  that  the  inexperience  and  simplicity  of  the  young  are 
taken  advantage  of,  commonly  and  systematically,  by  the  priesthood  of 
Rome  for  the  accompUshment  of  their  own  ambitious  ends.  "At  an 
age  when  the  heart  is  especially  open  to  those  impressions  which  may 
be  called  romantic  or  sentimental,  the  young  person  is  beset  with  con- 
tinual commendations  of  the  heavenly  state  of  a  nun  ;  she  is  told  of 
the  innumerable  dangers  and  difficulties  that  surround  those  who  Uve 
in  this  world,  and  of  the  ease  with  which  she  can  serve  God  in  a  clois- 
ter."— Nuns  and  Nunneries :  Sketches  compiled  entirely  from  Romish 
Authorities.     London,  1853. 


/U)  MI88    UrNKLEl's    BOOK. 

Two  or  three  instances  of  the  lessons  and  instruc- 
tions I  thus  received  will  illustrate  what  I  desire  to 
communicate  on  this  subject. 

"  Whoever,"  says  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,  "  consecrates  her  virginity 
to  Jesus  Christ,  is  devoted  entirely  to  God,  in  body  as  well  as  in  mind. 
Married  persons,  being  of  the  world,  can  think  of  nothing  but  of  the 
things  of  the  world.  Thus  poor  worldlings  meet  with  insurmountable 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  virtue  ;  and  the  more  exalted  their  rank,  the 
greater  the  obstacles  to  their  sanctification.  To  become  a  saint  in  the 
world,  it  is  necessary  for  a  married  woman  to  adopt  the  means  of  sanc- 
tification, to  frequent  the  sacraments,  to  make  long  and  frequent  men- 
tal prayer,  to  practice  many  interior  and  exterior  mortifications,  to  love 
contempt,  humiliation,  and  poverty,  and,  in  a  word,  to  make  every 
effort  in  her  power  to  please  God.  But  how  can  a  married  person  find 
the  time,  the  opportunities^  and  helps  necessary  for  reflection,  and 
continual  application  to  the  things  of  God  1  The  married  woman  must 
provide  for  her  family,  educate  her  children,  please  her  hu.sband.  [Is 
this  a  sin  !]  The  husband  must  be  attended  to  ;  if  his  directions  be 
neglected,  or  his  commands  be  not  immediately  executed,  he  breaks 
out  into  complaints  and  reproaches.  The  servants  disturb  the  house  ; 
at  one  time  by  their  clamor  or  their  quarrels,  at  another  by  their  im- 
portunate demands.  The  children,  if  small,  are  a  perpetual  source  of 
annoyance,  either  by  their  cries  and  screams,  or  by  the  endless  variety 
of  their  wants.  If  grown  up,  they  are  an  occasion  of  still  greater  in- 
quietude, fear,  and  bitterness,  by  associating  with  bad  companions,  by 
the  dangers  to  which  they  are  exposed,  or  the  infirmities  with  which 
they  are  afilicted.  How,  in  the  piidst  of  so  many  difficulties  and  em- 
barrassments, is  it  possible  for  the  married  woman  to  attend  to  prayer 
or  to  preserve  recollection  1  But  would  to  God,"  continues  this 
Romish  advocate  of  the  monastic  life,  "that  seculars  were  exposed  to 
no  other  evils  than  these  obstacles  to  their  devotions,  to  constant  pray- 
er, and  the  frequent  use  of  the  sacraments.  Their  greatest  mis- 
fortune is  to  be  in  continual  danger  of  losing  the  grace  of  God  and 
their  immortal  souls.  At  home  they  must  hold  constant  intercourse 
with  their  own  families,  and  with  their  relations,  and  with  the  friends 
of  their  husbands.  Oh  !  how  great,  on  such  occasions,  is  the  danger  of 
losing  God  !  This  is  not  understood  by  young  persons,  but  it  is  well 
known  to  those  who  are  settled  in  the  world,  and  who  are  daily  ex- 
posed to  such  dangers,    Oh!  how  unhappy  is  the  life  of  the  generality 


ATTRACTIONS    OF   THE    CLOISTER.  37 

While  I  was  in  Richmond,  Virginia,  an  unmarried 
Protestant  clergyman  accompanied  me  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  church.  The  next  time  I  saw  my  confessor, 
he  said  he  had  learned  I  intended  marrying  that  gentle- 
man. I  replied  I  had  never  thought  of  doing  so.  Then 
he  told  me  I  must  never  be  seen  with  him  again,  be- 
cause it  brought  scandal  on  the  holy  Church.  He 
said  he  had  noticed  me  from  the  altar,  and  then,  in  a 
threatening  attitude,  he  farther  said,  "  Just  let  me  see 
you  with  him  again."  He  continued  for  some  time  in 
this  angry  manner  to  scold  and  threaten  me.  I  was 
much  alarmed  ;  his  violence  terrified  me  ;  I  burst  into 
tears,  and  assured  him  again  and  again  that  I  did  not 
intend  marrying,  and  I  should  never  think  of  a  union 
with  one  out  of  the  Church.     I  promised  to  obey  im- 

of  married  persons  !  I  have  known  the  circumstances,  the  feelings, 
and  dispositions  of  numberless  married  persons,  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest  classes  of  society,  and  how  few  of  them  were  contented  ! 
The  bad  treatment  of  husbands,  the  disaffection  of  children,  the  wants 
of  the  family,  the  control  of  relatives,  the  pains  of  childbirth,  which  are 
always  accompanied  with  danger  of  death  ;  the  scruples  and  anxiety 
of  conscience  regarding  the  flight  of  opportunities,  and  the  education 
of  children,  plunge  poor  seculars  into  endless  troubles  and  agitations, 
and  fill  their  souls  with  continual  regret  for  not  having  been  called  to 
a  happier  and  more  holy  state.  God  grant  that  in  the  midst  of  such 
troubles  and  agitations  many  of  them  may  not  lose  their  immortal 
souls  ;  and  that  along  with  passing  through  a  hell  in  this  life,  they 
may  not  be  condemned  to  an  eternity  of  torments  in  the  next. 

"  The  state,  then,"  concludes  this  holy  man,  "  of  virgins  consecrated 
to  Jesus  Christ,  and  who  are  entirely  devoted  to  his  divine  love,  is  of  all 
states  the  most  happy  and  sublime.  They  are  free  from  the  danger  to 
which  married  persons  are  necessarily  exposed.  Their  affections  are 
not  fixed  on  their  families,  nor  on  men  of  the  world,  nor  on  goods  of 
the  earth,  nor  on  the  dress  and  vanities  of  women.  They  are  un- 
shackled by  worldly  ties,  by  subjection  to  friends  or  relatives,  and  are 
fer-removed  from  the  noise  and  tumult  of  the  world." 


38  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

plicitly  liis  commands,  and  implored  him  to  overlook 
and  forgive  this  offense  which  I  had  unconsciously 
committed.  After  a  while  he  became  calm,  and  per- 
mitted me  to  depart,  saying,  in  the  usual  manner,  "Go 
in  peace,  my  child."  When  I  returned  to  my  resi- 
dence, my  eyes  were  so  much  swollen  with  weeping 
that  my  sister  asked  the  cause.  This  I  durst  not 
communicate  to  any  one,  because  it  occurred  in  the 
confessional.     This  priest  was  a  vicar-general. 

Another  priest  once  asked  me  if  I  were  married,  to 
V\^hich  I  answered  in  the  negative.  Then  he  asked 
me  if  I  thought  of  marrying,  which  I  also  answered  in 
the  negative.  "Well,  my  child,"  said  he,  "it  is  in- 
finitely better  to  live  a  life  of  celibacy,  and  escape  all 
those  ills,"  etc.,  and  proceeded  to  enumerate  in  detail 
what  he  called  the  ills  of  married  life. 

Such  are  the  representations  and  arguments  which 
are  set  forth  for  the  inducement  of  the  young  and  igno- 
rant to  commit  themselves  to  those  "priests'  prisons  for 
women,"  where  the  security  of  home  and  domestic  de- 
fense is  exchanged  for  the  oppression  of  heartless  "  su- 
periors," where  the  gentle  discipline  of  care  and  trial, 
which  God  himself  has  appointed  to  our  lot  for  pro- 
gressive culture  and  sanctification,  is  bartered  for  the 
cruel  barbarities  of  the  whip  and  the  sackcloth,  ex- 
posure to  cold  and  hunger,  privation  of  all  comforts, 
and  destitution  of  all  friendly  regard  ;  where  the  active 
duties  of  a  benevolent  Christian  life  are  forsaken  for 
the  foolish,  senseless  absurdities  of  idol-worship  and 
works  of  self-righteous  zeal. 


VISITS   TO   THE   CONVENTS.  39 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

VISITS    TO   THE    CONVENTS. 

Influenced  by  these  counsels  and  suggestions,  I 
inclined  strongly,  before  many  weeks  had  elapsed  aft- 
er my  entrance  into  the  Church  of  Rome,  toward  the 
vocation  of  a  recluse.  But  in  order  fully  to  convince 
myself  of  the  attractions  of  that  calling,  I  determined, 
with  the  approval  of  my  spiritual  advisers,  to  visit 
some  of  those  institutions  of  which  I  had  heard  such 
praise.  In  the  summer  of  1852  I  left  Norfolk  to  visit 
the  Carmelite  Nunnery,  the  Visitation  Convent,  and 
the  "Mother  House"  of  St.  Joseph's,  that  fountain- 
head  of  female  Jesuitism  in  this  country. 

On  arriving  at  Baltimore,  I  received  a  permit  from  a 
priest  to  visit  the  Carmelite  Nunnery  on  Aisquith 
Street,  occupied  by  sisters  of  the  order  of  St.  Theresa. 
I  was  at  once  admitted,  doubtless  in  consequence  of 
the  fact  tliat  my  inclination  toward  the  convent  life 
had  been  made  known,  since  visitors  are  but  rarely 
permitted  to  enter  the  walls  of  this  institution.  I  did 
not,  however,  obtain  the  desired  opportunity  of  in- 
specting the  internal  and  domestic  arrangements  of  the 
place,  for  the  Superior  was  ill  and  could  not  receive 
me.  This  message  was  brought  to  me  at  the  grating 
of  the  parlor  by  a  nun  closely  veiled,  and  while  con- 


40  MISS    BL'XK ley's    JiOOK. 

versing  with  me  she  suddenly  drew  aside  her  veil,  and 
cast  upon  me  an  earnest  and  searching  look,  express- 
ive of  the  deepest  interest  and  sympathy.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  expression  of  that  countenance,  the 
death-like  pallor  of  which  showed  traces  of  long  men- 
tal and  bodily  suffering — indications  corroborated  by 
the  mournful  gentleness  of  her  voice.  I  did  not  then 
connect  these  symptoms  with  any  idea  of  the  cruelties 
suffered  by  the  inmates  of  these  institutions — cruelties 
so  well  calculated  to  produce  them — for  I  had  then  no 
glimpse  of  the  dark  side  of  the  picture ;  but  I  left  the 
convent  with  emotion  as  of  one  who  had  looked  upon 
a  visitant  from  another  sphere.  Poor  nun!  I  have 
never  seen  her  since.  Perhaps  she  is  still  pining  in 
her  cage,  vainly  longing  for  the  perfume  of  flowers, 
and  the  health-laden  breath  of  the  south  wind  on  her 
pallid  cheek.  More  likely  she  has  passed  away,  and 
her  only  memorial  is  the  mound  in  the  convent  garden 
that  indicates  the  place  where  her  poor  shattered  frame 
is  resting  in  the  grave,  dug  by  her  own  hands  while 
living. 

Although  at  that  time  aware  that  the  discipline  of 
the  Carmelite  order  of  nuns  is  peculiarly  severe,  it  was 
not  until  my  residence  at  St.  Joseph's,  where  I  had 
opportunities  of  obtaining  such  information,  that  I 
learned  the  nature  of  the  barbarities  practiced  by  the 
followers  of  St.  Theresa,  under  pretext  of  rendering 
themselves  acceptable  to  God.  A  brief  statement  of 
these  rules  may  interest  those  unacquainted  with  the 
system,  and  afford  some  warning  to  inexperienced  girls 
against  the  wiles  that  might  entice  them  into  such  a 
tomb  of  horrors. 


VISITS    TO    THE    CONVENTS.  41 

The  Carmelite  nuns  are  required  to  fast  during  eight 
months  of  the  year.  This  fasting,  which  is  often  ex- 
cessive, contributes  to  their  pale  and  emaciated  look. 
They  wear  constantly  a  garment  of  hair-cloth  next  to 
the  skin,  which  keeps  up  an  incessant  feverish  excite- 
ment of  the  system.  During  the  heat  of  summer  they 
sleep  between  woolen  blankets,  and  in  the  severities 
of  winter  they  are  furnished  with  scarcely  clothing 
enough  to  keep  them  from  the  effects  of  the  frost.  As 
a  penance  for  the  slightest  infraction  of  the  regulations, 
and  often  as  a  prescribed  religious  exercise,  the  '^^  dis- 
cipline'''  is  used,  that  is,  the  application  of  a  whip  com- 
posed of  several  leather  thongs  to  the  naked  back, 
with  all  the  strength  of  the  person  wielding  it.  The 
screams  of  sufferers  under  this  infliction  are  the  only 
sounds  that  relieve  the  dreary  silence  of  these  walls, 
and  have  been  heard  at  times  by  passers-by  at  the 
lonely  hour  of  midnight.  This  "  discipline"  is  often 
continued  till  the  blood  flows  at  every  stroke  of  the 
whip.  For  minor  faults  the  nuns  are  sometimes  re- 
quired to  describe  a  cross  on  the  floor  with  their 
tongues,  which  may  leave  the  mark  in  blood,  in  token 
of  deep  humility ;  and,  finally,  their  own  graves  are  dug 
by  themselves  during  life,  as  a  reminder  of  the  hour 
of  dissolution,  the  approach  of  which,  by  all  these  enor- 
mous barbarities,  equaled  only  in  the  records  of  savage 
or  Inquisitorial  torture,  is  so  effectually  and  rapidly 
liastened. 

In  this  convent  it  was  that  Olivia  Neal  was  con- 
fined, and  from  it  she  made  her  escape,  only  to  be  im- 
prisoned the  second  time  by  the  use  of  main  force. 
I  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to  refer  to  the  case  of 


42  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

this  unfortunate  victim  of  priestly  violence ;  but,  as  in- 
quiries have  frequently  been  made  as  to  her  present 
abode,  I  will  here  state  that  she  is  now  an  inmate  of 
the  asylum  at  Mount  Hope,  Baltimore,  a  hopeless  ma- 
niac, di'iven  to  desperation  by  her  tormentors. 

Shortly  after  my  visit  to  the  Carmelite  nunnery  I 
called  at  the  Convent  of  the  Visitation,  situated  upon 
the  corner  of  Park  and  Centre  Streets,  in  the  same 
city.  This  is  a  large  building,  with  grounds  attached, 
and  surrounded  by  an  elevated  wall.  A  nun  soon  ap- 
peared at  the  grating,  when  I  handed  her  a  note  for 
the  Superior.  She  directed  me  to  walk  to  the  left 
door.  I  heard  the  withdrawal  of  several  bolts,  and  the 
door  was  opened  by  some  invisible  hand,  then  closed 
behind  me,  and  the  bolts  were  pushed  over  the  door 
from  an  adjoining  apartment,  separated  from  that  where 
I  now  stood  by  iron  bars  extending  from  the  floor  to 
the  ceiling.  This  was  the  convent  parlor,  and  through 
this  iron  grating  persons  are  sometimes  allowed  to 
converse  with  the  nuns.  Soon  a  nun  aj)proached  the 
bars,  which  formed  a  partition  across  the  entire  width 
of  the  apartment,  and  told  me  that  she  would  open  the 
door  to  admit  me  into  the  rooms  beyond.  The  bolts 
were  withdrawn  as  before.  I  returned  into  the  vesti- 
bule, and  stood  at  the  door  where  the  nun  had  first 
appeared.  After  the  removal  of  several  bars  and  bolts 
again,  this  door  opened  and  closed  violently  behind 
me ;  it  was  fastened  as  before,  and  I  could  just  dis- 
cern, through  the  almost  total  darkness,  two  nuns,  one 
of  whom  bade  me  follow  her.  I  was  taken  throu2:h 
several  passages  to  the  library,  or  large  room,  well  sup- 
plied with  books,  where  several  nuns  were  seated  and 


VISITS    TO    THE   CONVENTS.  43 

engaged  in  reading,  while  others,  also  with  books  be- 
fore them,  kept  their  eyes  fixed  immovably  upon  the 
floor,  not  even  turning  to  notice  the  stranger  who  had 
entered.  I  was  next  taken  to  the  chapel,  a  circular 
apartment,  with  a  richly-decorated  altar.  On  one  side 
of  the  room  was  a  grating  in  the  wall,  through  which 
I  could  distinguish  the  pale  faces  of  several  nuns  who 
were  kneeling  in  prayer,  jifter  visiting  the  dormitory, 
the  music-room,  and  other  apartments  occupied  by  the 
pupils  of  the  academy  attached  to  the  convent — for  I 
was  not  allowed  to  visit  the  cloisters — I  left,  promis- 
ing to  return  soon  for  the  purpose  of  an  interview  with 
the  Superior,  who,  at  the  time  of  this  first  visit,  was 
engaged,  and  could  not  conveniently  receive  me. 


44  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   SUNNY  SIDE  OF   CONVENT   LIFE. 

I  HAD  received  from  the  Superior  of  the  institution 
of  St.  Joseph's,  at  Emmettsburg,  an  invitation  to  visit 
that  establishment,  of  which  I  had  heard  frequent  eu- 
losjv,  and  which  I  had  lono;  desired  to  see.  I  accord- 
ingly  proceeded  thither  from  Baltimore,  and  reached 
the  gate  of  the  institution  at  about  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  I  left  the  stage  at  the  gate,  and  proceeded 
up  the  walk.  A  portress  opened  the  door,  and  con- 
ducted me  to  the  strangers'  apartment ;  as  the  hour 
was  late,  I  could  not  see  the  Lady  Superior  till  the 
next  morning,  and  after  taking  some  refreshment  I  re- 
tired. 

At  an  early  hour  I  was  awakened  by  the  sound  of 
a  sweet  strain  of  music  ;  it  proceeded  from  the  chapel 
near  by.  The  deep  tones  of  an  organ  swelled  forth, 
accompanying  the  rich  voices  of  singers  in  a  hymn  of 
solemn  and  inspiring  melody.  I  listened  in  a  trance 
of  delight  to  the  exquisite  combination  of  parts  and  the 
melodious  alternations ;  now  subdued  and  tender,  sink- 
ing almost  to  a  whisper,  and  now  bursting  forth  into 
a  full  chorus  of  perfect  harmony,  while  the  anthern 
would  be  caught  up  by  some  single  voice,  whose  thrill- 
ing tones,  higher  and  higher  ascending,  seemed  at  last, 


THE    SUNNY   SIDE    OF   CONVENT   LIFE.  45 

like  the  matin  song  of  the  lark,  to  come  from  heaven's 
gate,  pleading  for  admission  there.  It  were  impossi- 
ble to  describe  the  impressions  made  by  these  heav- 
enly sounds,  thus  rising  upon  the  stillness  of  the  early 
morning,  as  heard  by  one  already  prepossessed  in  fa- 
vor of  the  religious  life  whose  utterance  was  heard  in 
such  delicious  strains.  It  seemed  the  outbreathing 
of  a  joy  and  tranquillity  such  as  I  had  so  long  thirst- 
ed to  experience,  the  source  and  motive  of  which  were 
the  holy  life  and  the  blessed  employments  in  which 
those  singers  were  engaged. 

The  few  days  now  spent  in  this  establishment  were 
appropriated,  at  the  recommendation  of  the  Superior, 
to  a  "religious  retreat,"  as  it  is  termed  —  that  is,  a 
course  of  spiritual  practices,  consisting  of  prayer,  med- 
itation, and  devotional  reading.  During  this  space  of 
time  every  attention  was  paid  to  me,  and  every  effort 
made  to  influence  me  in  favor  of  the  convent  life.  The 
condition  of  a  "  religious"*  was  painted  in  bright  and 

*  The  misapplication  of  this  term,  and  of  other  words  in  the  Rom- 
ish dialect,  is  ably  criticised  by  a  popular  writer.  "  Where  a  perver- 
sion of  the  moral  sense  has  found  place,"  says  he,  "  words  preserve 
oftentimes  a  record  of  this  perversion.  We  have  a  signal  example  of 
this — even  as  it  is  a  notable  evidence  of  the  manner  in  which  moral 
contagion,  spreading  from  heart  and  manners,  invades  the  popular  lan- 
guage —  in  the  use,  or,  rather,  misuse  of  the  word  '  religion,''  during 
all  the  age  of  papal  domination  in  Europe.  Probably  many  of  you  are 
aware  that  in  those  times  a  '  religious  person'  did  not  mean  any  one 
who  felt  and  allowed  the  bonds  that  bound  him  to  God  and  his  fellow- 
men,  but  one  who  had  taken  peculiar  vows  upon  him,  a  member  of  one 
of  the  monastic  orders.  A  '  religious  house'  did  not  mean,  nor  does  it 
now  mean  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  a  Christian  household,  ordered  in 
the  fear  of  God,  but  a  house  in  which  these  persons  were  gathered  to- 
gether according  to  the  rule  of  some  man — Benedict,  or  Dominic,  or 
some  other.     A  '  religion'  meant,  not  a  service  of  God,  but  an  order  of 


46  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

glowing  colors,  and  every  attraction  calculated  to  please 
and  charm  the  taste  was  presented  to  my  view.  The 
very  atmosphere  of  the  place  seemed  redolent  with  pi- 
ety, and  the  inmates  encircled,  as  it  were,  with  a  ce- 
lestial halo.  I  was  surrounded  by  comforts  and  lux- 
uries such  as  I  had  not  supposed  were  granted  to  the 
members  of  a  conventual  establishment ;  the  table,  fur- 
nished with  silver,  was  always  well  provided  with  choice 
viands  and  fruits ;  the  furniture  was  neat,  and  even 
luxurious.* 

In  my  interview  with  the  Father  Superior  of  the 
institution,  who  was  a  priest  from  Spain,  I  explained 
to  him  without  reserve  my  reasons  for  visiting  these 
establishments,  and  asked  his  advice  respecting  my 

monkery  ;  and  taking  the  monastic  vows  was  termed  going  into  a  '  re- 
ligion.' Now  what  an  awful  light  does  this  one  word,  so  used,  throw 
on  the  entire  state  of  mind  and  habit  of  thought  in  those  ages  !  That 
then  was  rehgion,  and  nothing  else  was  deserving  of  the  name.  And 
'  religious'  was  not  a  title  which  might  be  given  to  parents  and  chil- 
dren, husbands  and  wives,  men  and  women  fulfilling  faithfully  and 
holily  in  the  world  the  several  duties  of  their  stations,  but  only  to  those 
who  had  devised  self-chosen  service  for  themselves." — Trench  on  the 
Study  of  Words,  Lecture  I.  To  vindicate  this  statement  against  the 
charge  of  being  grounded  on  a  mere  popular  use  of  the  word  in  ques- 
tion, the  author  quotes  a  decree  of  the  great  Fourth  Lateran  Council 
(1215)  forbidding  the  farther  multiplication  of  monastic  orders.  The 
passage  runs  thus  :  "  Ne  nimia  religionum  diversitas  gravem  in  Eccle- 
sia  Dei  confusionem  inducat,  firmiter  prohibemus,  ne  quis  de  cetero  no- 
vam  religioncm  inveniat,  sed  quicunque  voluerit  ad  religionem  converti, 
unam  de  approbatis  assumat." 

*  The  community  of  St.  Joseph's  at  Emmettsburg,  which  was  found- 
ed by  Mother  Seton  in  1809,  is  in  the  main  modeled  after  the  society 
of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  in  Paris,  and  is  the  Mother  House  of  the  com- 
munity in  the  United  States.  Besides  having,  like  all  sisterhoods,  a 
female  or  Mother  Superior,  it  possesses  also  a  male  or  Father  Supe- 
rior, who  is  a  priest 


THE    SUNNY    SIDE    OF    CONVENT    LIFE.  47 

embracing  a  religious  life.     He  encouraged  me,  and,  in 
order  to  form  a  judgment  of  my  religious  qualificlition, 
desired  me  to  make  a  full  confession,  commencing  with 
the  time  of  my  entering  the  Church.     I  did  so,  and 
was  told  that  I  had  a  true  call  from  God — a  vocation. 
But  it  had  not  formed  part  of  my  intention  to  enter 
at  once  upon  this  vocation,  and  accordingly  I  left,  aft- 
er a  short  and  delightful  stay,  the  institution  of  St. 
Joseph's,  to  return  to  my  home.     At  that  time  it  was 
my  purpose  to  revisit  the  place,  and  enter  upon  my 
novitiate  within  the  period  of  six  months ;  but  cir- 
cumstances of  the  most  painful  nature  prolonged  that 
interval.     When  I  left  home  upon  this  visit  my  moth- 
er was  in  excellent  health.     How  great  was  my  dis- 
tress at  receiving,  before  I  left   St.  Joseph's,  a  tele- 
graphic dispatch  announcing  that  my  dear  ir.other  had 
been  attacked  by  the  yellow  fever,  and  was  already  at 
the  point  of  death.     I  hastened  home,  but  too  late  to 
receive  her  blessing,  or  even  to  take  a  last  look  at  her 
remains,  the  message  having  been  delayed  at  Baltimore. 
]\Iy  feelings  on  reaching  my  desolate  home  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  describe  ;  those  only  who  have  experienced 
such  a  loss  can  represent  its  anguish  to  themselves. 
My  mother  left  a  babe  of  twelve  months,  who  has  ever 
since  been  inexpressibly  dear  to  me.     I  have  but  once 
approached  her  grave,  and  then  was  conveyed  away  in 
an  unconscious  state.    But  this  is  a  theme  upon  which 
I  can  not  dwell. 

When  six  months  had  expired  after  my  return,  I  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  Superior,  inquiring  whether  I 
had  relinquished  the  idea  of  consecrating  myself  to  the 
service  of  God.      That  letter  I  left  unanswered.     A 


48  MLS8  bunkley's  book.     ^ 

year  elapsed,  during  the  latter  part  of  which  I  fre- 
quently visited  the  Sisters  of  Charity  at  their  mission- 
house  near  my  home.  They,  as  well  as  my  spiritual 
advisers,  encouraged  me  to  go  forward  in  the  path 
marked  out  for  me  by  Providence,  assuring  me  that 
even  on  earth  I  should  arrive  at  a  nobler  and  worthier 
life  than  the  world  could  afford. 

Had  I  but  heeded  one  voice,  however,  which  warned 
me  to  beware,  I  should  have  been  spared  many  days 
of  misery  and  wretchedness. 


ENTRANCE   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.  49 


CHAPTER  X. 

ENTRANCE   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  December,  1853,  that,  not- 
withstanding the  continued  opposition  of  my  Protest- 
ant friends  and  lamily,  and  entirely  without  their 
knowledge,  I  left  Norfolk  for  Baltimore,  with  the  secret 
purpose  of  embracing  the  life  of  a  "  Sister  of  Charity." 

While  in  Baltimore  I  was  invited  to  witness  the  im- 
posing ceremony  of  the  "  taking  of  the  black  veil"  by 
a  novice  of  the  Visitation  Convent.  This  rite  has  been 
so  often  described  that  it  were  needless  to  repeat  here 
the  well-known  relation.  It  is  a  solemn  and  impress- 
ive pageantry,  and  the  mystical  character  given  to  the 
poor  victim,  the  temporary  importance  to  which  she 
is  elevated  in  her  own  eyes  and  in  the  sight  of  be- 
holders, and  the  loud  hallelujahs  sung  over  this  living 
burial  of  a  soul  intended  by  the  Creator  for  light  and 
happiness,  rob  the  scene  of  much  of  its  intrinsic  horror, 
and  excite  in  the  breast  of  many  an  enthusiastic  girl 
the  romantic  wish  to  figure  in  so  brilliant  a  spectacle.* 

*  While  the  ceremony  here  alluded  to  is  familiar  to  many  in  its  ex- 
ternal and  dramatic  features,  there  are  probably  but  few  who  have  had 
the  opportunity  of  examining  the  nature  of  the  vows  and  prayers  used 
on  these  occasions,  as  they  are  prescribed  in  the  Pontificale  Romanum 
— a  work  little  known  outside  of  the  ranks  of  the  Romish  clergy    The 

G 


50  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

I  arrived  at  St.  Joseph's  at  about  half  past  ciglit  on 
an  evening  in  the  early  part  of  January,  1854.     Rain 

following  statements  on  this  subject  are  from  the  pen  of  a  friend,  and 
deserve  particular  notice,  as  illustrating  the  wicked  and  pernicious  in- 
fluences which  are  brought  to  the  aid  of  a  system  based  upon  falsehood 
and  characterized  throughout  by  gross  delusion  and  shameless  deceit. 

The  most  marked  peculiarity  of  this  ceremony,  writes  my  friend^ 
is  its  mystical  character,  and  the  complete  confusion  of  material  with 
pseudo-spiritual  ideas  which  pervades  the  service. 

After  various  chantings  and  genuflections,  the  officiating  pontiff 
(bishop)  consecrates  the  vestments  of  the  virgins,  and  blesses  their 
veils.     Then  he  hallows  the  rings — the  marriage-rings — saying, 

"  Creator  Lord,  send  thy  benediction  upon  these  rings,  that  those 
who  shall  wear  the  same,  being  fortified  with  celestial  virtue,  may 
maintain  entire  faith  and  unbroken  fidelity,  and  as  the  spouses  of  Jesus 
Christ,  may  guard  the  vow  of  their  virginity,  and  persevere  in  perpet- 
ual chastity.     Through  Christ,"  etc. 

Then  he  consecrates  the  torques,  or  necklaces,  etc.  These  actions 
completed,  the  virgins,  arrayed  in  the  consecrated  garments,  their  veils 
excepted,  return,  two  by  two,  to  the  pontiff,  chanting  as  follows  : 

"  The  kingdom  of  this  world,  and  all  secular  adorning,  I  have  de- 
spised for  the  love  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"  R.  Whom  I  have  seen,  whom  I  have  loved,  in  whom  I  have  be- 
lieved, in  whom  I  have  delighted. 

"  My  heart  hath  uttered  a  good  word.  I  speak  of  my  works  to  the 
king." 

Then  the  pontiff,  with  his  hands  stretched  out  before  him,  repeats 
sundry  prayers,  from  which  we  select  a  few  passages : 

"  Look  down,  O  Lord !  on  these  thy  handmaids,  who,  placing  in  thy 
hands  the  vow  of  their  continence,  make  an  offering  of  their  devotion 
unto  thee,  from  whom  they  themselves  have  received  the  desire  to 
make  this  vow.  For  how  otherwise  could  their  mind,  compassed  with 
mortal  flesh,  get  the  victory  over  the  law  of  nature,  the  freedom  of  li- 
cense, the  force  of  custom,  and  the  stimulants  of  youthful  age  (legem 
naturae,  libertatem  licentise,  vim  consuetudinis,  et  stimulos  setatis),  un- 
less thou,  0  God,  didst  mercifully  kindle  in  them,  of  thy  free  pleasure, 
the  love  of  virginity — didst  graciously  nourish  the  longing  for  it  in  their 
hearts— didst  minister  unto  their  fortitude  1" 

The  following  passage  can  not  be  given  in  English : 

"  .  .  .  .  De  largitatis  tuae  fonte  defluxit  ut  cum  honorem  nuptiarum 


ENTEANCE    AT    ST. -JOSEPH'S.  51 

was  pouring  in  toiTcnts  when  the  stage  stopped  at  the 
gate  of  the  yard  through  wdiich  '^ jwstulants^'"  or  can- 

nulla  interdicta  minuissent  ac  super  sanctum  conjugium  nuptialis  ben- 
cdictio  permaneret,  existerertt  tamen  sublimiorcs  animaj  quaj  in  viri  ac 
muliebris  copula  fastidirent  connubium,  concupiscerent  sacramentum, 
ncc  imitarentur  quod  nuptiis  agitur,  sed  diligercnt  quod  nuptiis  prse 
notatur.     Amen." 

One  more  passage  from  this  extraordinary  prayer  : 

"  Blessed  Virginity  confesses  Him  who  is  her  author,  and,  rivaling 
the  integrity  of  angels,  has  devoted  herself  to  the  bridal  chamber  and 
the  bed  of  Him  (illius  thalamo,  illius  cubiculo)'  who  is  the  spouse  of 
perpetual  virginity,  like  as  he  is  the  Son  of  perpetual  virginity." 

In  putting  the  consecrated  veil  upon  the  head  of  each  successively, 
the  pontiff  says, 

"  Receive  thou  the  sacred  veil,  whereby  thou  mayest  be  known  to 
have  contemned  the  world,  as  truly  and  humbly  with  the  whole  en- 
deavor of  thy  heart  to  have  subjected  thyself  as  a  wife  to  Jesus  Christ 
forever,  who  defend  thee  from  all  evil,  and  bring  thee  to  life  eternal. 
Amen." 

The  virgins,  being  veiled,  sing,  "  Posuit  signum  in  faciem  meam,  ut 
nullum  praeter  cum  amatorcm  admittam.''' 

Then  the  virgins  are  again  presented  to  the  pontiff,  two  and  two  as 
before,  by  the  bridemaids  ;  then  taking  the  ring  in  his  right  hand,  and 
the  virgin's  right  hand  in  his  left,  and  putting  the  ring  on  the  ring- 
finger  of  her  right  hand,  he  espouses  the  same  to  Jesus  Christ  (despon- 
sat  illas  J.  C),  saying  to  each  severally, 

"  I  espouse  thee  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  son  of  the  Supreme  Father, 
who  keep  thee  undefiled  (illaesam).  Therefore  receive  the  ring  of 
faith,  the  seal  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  so  that  thou  be  called  the  spouse  of 
God,  and  if  thou  serve  him  faithfully,  be  crowned  everlastingly.  In 
nomine  Patris,"  etc. 

Then  the  pontiff,  rising,  says, 

"  God  the  Father  Almighty,  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  who  hath 
vouchsafed  to  choose  you  to  an  espousalship  like  that  of  the  blessed 
Mary,  mother  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  (ad  beatce  Maris  niatris  Domini 
nostri  J.  C.  consortium),  hallow  you,  that  in  the  presence  of  God  and 
of  his  angels,  you  may  persevere,  untouched  and  undefiled,  in  the  in- 
tegrity you  have  professed,  and  hold  on  your  purpose,  love  chastity,  and 
keep  patience,  that  you  may  merit  to  receive  the  crown  of  virginity. 
Through  the  same  Christ  our  Lord,  Amen." 


52  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

didates  for  admission  into  the  establishment,  enter. 
This  yard  is  inclosed  on  three  sides  by  the  chapel, 

We  shall  only  add  some  passages  from  the  benedictions,  and  the 
anathema  with  which  this  ceremony  closes. 

*'0  God prepare  them,  under  the  governance  of  wisdom,  for 

all  the  work  of  virtue  and  glory,  that,  overcoming  the  enticements  of 
the  flesh,  and  rejecting  forbidden  concubinage,  they  may  inherit  the 
indissoluble  copula  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  These,  0  Lord  ! 
we  beseech  thee  supply  with  arms  not  carnal,  but  mighty  through 
the  power  of  the  Spirit,  that  thou  fortifying  their  feelings  and  mem- 
bers, sin  be  not  able  to  lord  it  in  their  bodies  and  souls." 

Again:  "Let  the  shower  also  of  thy  heavenly  grace  extinguish  in 
them  all  hurtful  heat  (omnem  nocivum  calorem),  and  kindle  up  in  them 
the  light  of  abiding  chastity  ;  let  not  the  modest  face  be  exposed  to 
scandals,  nor  negligence  afford  to  the  incautious  occasions  of  falling." 

Again  :  "  God  make  you  strong  when  frail,  strengthen  you  when 
weak,  relieve  and  govern  your  minds  with  piety,  direct  your  ways, 
etc.,  etc.,  that  when  about  to  enter  the  bed-chamber  of  your  spouse 
(intratura;  sponsi  thalamum),  he  may  discover  in  you  nothing  noisome, 
nothing  filthy,  nothing  hidden,  nothing  corrupt,  nothing  disgraceful ; 
that  when  the  tremendous  day  of  the  repayment  of  the  just  and  retri- 
bution of  the  bad  shall  come,  avenging  fire  may  find  in  you  nothing  to 
burn,  but  divine  goodness  what  to  crown ;  as  being-  those  whom  a  re- 
ligious life  hath  already  cleansed  in  this  world ;  so  that  when  about  to 
ascend  to  the  tribunal  of  the  eternal  king  and  the  palaces  on  high,  you 
may  merit  to  have  protection  with  those  who  follow  the  Lamb,  and 
sing  the  new  song  without  ceasing,  there  to  receive  the  reward  afler 
labor,  and  remain  forever  in  the  region  of  the  living." 

The  benedictions  ended,  the  pontiff  sits  down,  and  publicly  pro- 
nounces anathema  on  any  who  may  draw  away  from  divine  service 
those  who  are  under  the  banner  of  chastity,  and  on  any  one  who  may 
purloin  their  goods,  or  hinder  them  from  possessing  their  goods  in 
quiet. 

The  Cicrse. — "  By  the  authority  of  the  Omnipotent  God,  and  of  St. 
Peter  and  St.  Paul,  his  apostles,  we  firmly,  and  under  the  threat  of  an- 
athema, enjoin  that  no  one  carry  olT  these  virgins  or  religious  persons 
here  present  from  divine  service,  to  which,  under  the  standard  of 
chastity,  they  have  been  dedicated  ;  that  no  one  plunder  their  proper- 
ty, but  that  they  enjoy  it  in  quiet.  If  any  one  shall  have  presumed  to 
attempt  this,  may  he  be  cursed  in  his  home  and  out  of  his  home  ;  may 


ENTRANCE   AT    ST.  JOSEPH'S.  53 

the  infirmary,  and  the  convent  proper.  I  waited  at 
the  entrance  for  one  of  the  sisters,  who  admitted  me, 
and  led  me  through  a  porch,  and  along  a  dark  corridor, 
into  the  "  novitiate,'"  a  room  occupied  by  the  novices, 

he  be  cursed  in  the  state  (or  city)  and  in  the  field,  cursed  in  watching 
and  cursed  in  sleeping,  cursed  in  eating-  and  drinking,  cursed  in  walk- 
ino-  and  sitting  ;  may  his  flesh  and  his  bones  be  cursed,  and  from 

THE    SOLE   OF   HIS   FOOT   TO  THE   CROWN   OF   HIS  HEAD  MAY  HE  ENJOY   NO 

HEALTH.  May  there  light  upon  him  the  curse  which  the  Lord  sent  in 
the  law  by  Moses  on  the  sons  of  iniquity  ;  may  his  name  be  erased 
from  the  book  of  the  living,  and  not  be  recorded  with  the  righteous  ; 
may  his  portion  and  his  heritage  be  with  Cain  the  fratricide,  with 
Dathan  and  Abiram,  with  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  with  Simon  Magus 
and  with  Judas  the  traitor,  and  with  those  who  said  to  God,  '  Depart 
from  us,  we  will  not  follow  thy  ways.'  May  eternal  fire  devour 
HIM  WITH  THE  DEVIL  AND  HIS  ANGELS,  uulcss  lie  make  restitution,  and 
come  to  amendment.     So  be  it.     So  be  it." — Poyitificale  Romanum. 

Such,  American  fathers  and  mothers,  are  the  disgusting  dreams  of 
sensuality,  the  loathsome  caricatures  of  spiritual  truth,  the  horrible 
mockery  of  the  hoUest  relations,  which  Rome  would  furnish  to  your 
daughters  instead  of  God's  own  blessing  upon  a  virtaous  and  useful 
life  !  Such  are  the  heathenish  and  blasphemous  representations  with 
which  she  would  fill  their  minds  respecting  that  adorable  Redeemer 
whose  truth  she  mutilates,  and  whose  character  she  insults.  "  Filthy 
dreamers,  ungodly  men,  turning  the  grace  of  our  God  into  lascivious- 
ness,  and  denying  the  only  Lord  God  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." — 
Jude,  iv.,  8.  "  Having  eyes  full  of  adultery,  beguiling  unstable  hearts, 
they  speak  great  swelling  words  of  vanity  ;  they  allure  through  the 

lusts  of  the  flesh  ; while  they  promise  them  liberty,  they 

themselves  are  the  servants  of  corruption." — 2  Peter,  ii.,  10,  14,  18, 
19.  Such,  too,  are  the  awful  imprecations  she  pronounces  upon  any — 
upon  you — who  would  presume  to  attempt  to  withdraw  your  child  from 
the  barbarous  treatment,  the  close  confinement,  the  unmitigated  misery 
of  a  forced  imprisonment  in  the  nunnery  !  Say,  then,  is  there  no  ur- 
gent call  for  such  legal  provision  in  this  our  free  and  happy  country  as 
will  secure  to  these  poor  victims  of  fantastic  delusions  and  actual  cru- 
elties the  permission  and  the  opportunity  to  leave  these  "  priests'  pris- 
ons for  women,"  and  return  to  the  guardianship  of  your  love  and  the 
protection  of  their  homes  1  Answer  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  your 
own  obligations  as  parents,  as  citizens,  as  reasonable  beings. 


54  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

or  "  seminary  sisters,"  as  tliej  are  indifferently  styled. 
At  the  door  of  this  room  I  was  asked  in  a  harsh  tone 
for  the  key  of  my  trunk.  On  presenting  it  to  the  sis- 
ter appointed  to  receive  it,  I  was  told,  in  a  firm  and  de- 
cided manner,  "  With  this  hey  you  renounce  your  own 
will  forever,''^  The  words  fell  like  a  doom  on  my 
heart,  and  I  could  not  but  contrast  the  severity  of  this 
language  with  my  treatment  upon  my  former  visit.  I 
was  then  conducted  to  the  refectory,  where  a  small 
piece  of  bread,  and  some  coffee  in  a  tin  cup,  were  given 
me.  I  scarcely  tasted  this  food,  and  soon  left  the  re- 
fectory with  a  sister  who  conducted  me  to  my  sleep- 
ing apartment;  We  crossed  a  passage  leading  near 
the  Superior's  room,  walked  down  the  corridor  to  a 
passage  beyond,  and  ascended  a  flight  of  stairs  which 
communicated  with  a  number  of  cloisters,  on  each  side 
of  which  was  a  row  of  cells.  We  entered  a  room  at 
the  end  of  the  passage,  containing  seven  or  eight  small 
curtained  bedsteads.  The  sister  who  accompanied  me 
pointed  to  one  of  these,  which  was  numbered,  and, 
placing  a  dim  lamp  in  a  recess  near  the  door,  left  the 
room.  It  was  with  mingled  emotions  of  surprise  and 
fear  that  I  gazed  upon  this  novel  and  unexpected 
scene,  scarcely  lighted  by  the  faint  rays  of  the  lamp. 


THE   CONTRAST,  55 


CHAPTEE  XT. 

THE    CONTRAST. 

I  NOW  presumed  that  tlie  introductory  ordeal  was 
finished,  and  began  to  make  preparations  to  retire  and 
obtain  the  rest  so  much  needed  after  the  fatigue  and 
excitement  of  the  day.  But  my  trials  for  the  night 
were  not  yet  ended.  Hearing  a  slight  noise  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  room,  where  there  was  another  door, 
nearly  opposite  the  one  through  which  I  had  entered, 
I  looked  anxiously  in  that  direction.  Presently  an 
aged  sister,  dressed  in  the  "holy  habit" — a  costume 
which  will  be  described  hereafter — came  in,  and  ap- 
proached me,  holding  in  her  hand  a  large  cup  filled 
with  a  dark  mixture,  which  she  commanded  me  to 
drink.  I  attempted  compliance,  but,  finding  the  taste 
intensely  bitter  and  nauseous,  after  swallowing  about 
half  the  quantity,  begged  to  be  excused  from  taking 
the  remainder.  Placing  it  again  to  my  lips,  she  stern- 
ly ordered  me  to  drink  the  whole.  I  obeyed  in  si- 
lence. The  sister  then  informed  me  that  she  was  the 
"mistress  of  novices,"  and  had  charge  over  their  con- 
duct and  employment,  adding,  that  I  must  not  rise 
from  my  bed  until  called.      She  then  withdrew. 

A  strange  sensation  of  bewilderment  and  stupor  suc- 
ceeded this  incident,  and  I  had  scarcely  strength  to 


50  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

draw  the  curtain  around  my  bed,  ^Yllen  I  fell  into  a 
deep  slumber.  I  was  awakened  about  four  o'clock  by 
the  deep  toll  of  the  morning  bell  calling  to  prayers  in 
the  chapel. 

The  details  here  given  show  the  art  and  skill  em- 
ployed to  impress  on  the  mind  of  the  novice  the  abso- 
lute subjection  to  which  she  must  submit,  and  of 
which  these  are,  as  it  were,  the  preliminary  tests. 
They  go  to  prove  that,  from  her  first  entrance  within 
the  walls  of  the  institution  as  a  candidate  for  admis- 
sion into  the  community,  she  must  learn  to  obey,  with- 
out hesitation  or  demur,  whatever  may  be  commanded 
her,  as  the  first  step  of  her  initiation.  This,  if  rightly 
managed,  is  an  important  point  gained  ;  for  here,  as  in 
all  other  matters,  the  impression  made  at  the  outset  is 
the  most  lasting  and  profound.  Besides,  the  manner 
in  which  these  preparatory  injunctions  are  submitted 
to,  whether  cheerfully  and  instantly,  or  with  expostu- 
lation and  suUenness,  must  afibrd  an  insight  into  the 
character  and  disposition  of  the  postulant,  of  which  ad- 
vantage is  taken  in  future  proceedings,  in  order  to  ren- 
der her  docile  and  obedient.  In  a  word,  these  first 
requirements  are  designed  to  teach  the  subject  of  them 
that  henceforth  she  has  no  will  of  her  oimi^  hut  the 
will  of  the  Superior  is  her  laic^  lohich  must  he  oheyed 
even  to  the  slightest  particular. 

It  was  some  time  after  the  first  beU  had  sounded 
that  a  sister  entered  the  room,  approached  my  bed,  and 
in  a  low  tone  said  that  I  might  now  rise  and  go  to 
mass,  as  the  bell  would  ring  in  a  few  minutes.  I  rose 
and  dressed  in  haste,  and  then  waited  for  the  sister, 
who  conducted  me  to  the  chapel,  where  the  commu- 


THE    CONTRAST.  57 

nity  IiacI  already  assembled.  I  was  directed  to  a  seat 
among  the  "  postulants,"  near  the  sanctuary.  The 
altar  of  this  chapel  is  of  white  marble ;  above  it  is  a 
large  statue  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  bearing  in  her  arms 
the  infant  Jesus.  At  the  foot  of  this  statue  there  is 
usually  placed  a  vase  of  beautiful  flowers.  On  one 
side  of  the  sanctuary  is  a  small  chapel  with  a  confes- 
sional-box ;  on  the  other  is  the  sacristy.  A  narrow 
corridor  behind  the  altar  leads  from  the  sacristy  to 
this  chapel;  this  is  the  passage  for  the  priests,  and 
those  who  resort  to  the  confessional.  There  are  two 
confessionals  in  the  chapel  where  the  community  as- 
semble, another  in  a  small  chapel  on  one  side  of  the 
sanctuary,  and  another  below,  in  a  chapel  on  the  ground 
floor,  besides  a  chapel  in  the  infirmary  in  which  con- 
fessions are  made.  Those  who  are  too  ill  to  leave 
their  beds  are  attended  by  a  priest,  who  seats  himself 
beside  them.  At  the  time  of  a  jubilee,  or  a  religious 
or  annual  retreat — which  lasts  from  eight  to  ten  days 
— all  these  confessionals  are  supplied  with  priests. 

I  shall,  in  continuing  this  statement,  be  compelled 
to  recount  facts  and  incidents  as  they  recall  themselves 
to  my  mind,  begging  of  the  reader  indulgence  for  what- 
ever repetition  or  want  of  order  may  consequently  be 
observable  in  my  narrative. 
C2 


58 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   INSTITUTION  AT   EMMETTSBURa. 

The  institution  of  St.  Joseph  is  situated  in  a  beau- 
tiful vale  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  town  of 
Emmettsburg.  The  church  or  chapel  fronts  upon  the 
avenue  leading  to  the  main  road.  It  forms  one  side 
of  a  square  inclosing  a  large  yard,  on  the  other  side 
of  which  stands  the  infirmary.  In  the  rear  of  this 
yard  is  the  building  occupied  by  the  community,  and 
beyond  it  another  quadrangle,  which  is  the  academy — 
a  separate  edifice,  connected  with  the  "Mother  House," 
as  it  is  sometimes  called,  by  porticoes  and  by  a  balco- 
ny, over  which  the  sisters  pass  when  going  to  their 
duties  in  the  academy.  Those  inmates  who  are  not 
employed  in  the  latter  institution  are  not  permitted  to 
speak  to  or  even  look  at  one  of  the  boarders,  either 
when  crossing  the  porticoes  attached  to  their  house,  or 
while  at  work  in  their  dormitories  or  in  their  refecto- 
ry. This  I  was  told  on  the  first  day  after  my  arrival, 
during  my  interview  with  the  Lady  Superior.  I  was 
also  directed  to  consider  myself  as  henceforth  entering 
upon  a  new  life,  so  that  I  must  not  recognize  nor  ad- 
dress as  an  acquaintance  any  individual  in  the  acade- 
my whom  I  had  j^reviously  known  "in  the  world." 

After  an  interview  with  the  Father  Superior  of  the 


THE    INSTITUTION   AT   ESEMETTSBUEa.  59 

institution,  I  was  shown  over  a  part  of  the  house  oc- 
cupied by  the  community.  On  one  side  of  a  corridor 
paved  with  brick,  upon  the  first  floor,  are  the  commu- 
nity-room, the  novitiate,  the  Lady  Superior's  room,  and 
the  priest's  room.  On  the  second  floor  are  the  cells, 
the  retreat-room,  an  apartment  occupied  by  the  mis- 
tress of  novices,  and  a  number  of  other  apartments,  two 
or  tlnree  of  which  were  often  kept  entirely  closed,  though 
I  had  reason  to  think  they  were  inhabited  at  the  time. 
The  walls  of  the  cells  occupied  by  the  sisters  do  not 
reach  to  the  ceiling.  An  open  space  of  several  feet 
above  them  not  only  aflbrds  ventilation,  but  permits 
every  sound  to  communicate  from  cell  to  cell  and  to 
the  cloisters. 

The  coinriiiunity-T007)%  is  used  by  those  sisters  who 
have  been  for  eight  or  ten  years  members  of  the  sister- 
hood; prior  to  that  time  they  occupy  the  novitiate. 
There  are,  however,  members  sent  forth  upon  missions, 
who,  as  will  be  explained  hereafter,  have  never  occu- 
pied the  community-room,  having  always  been  in  the 
novitiate.  The  Superior  seldom  leaves  her  own  apart- 
ment. Should  she  desire  to  see  a  sister,  the  individ- 
ual is  sent  for  by  one  who  has  charge  of  her  room,  and 
who  attends  at  her  door.  No  sister  enters  the  room 
of  the  Superior  without  permission.  Should  a  priest 
enter  while  she  is  there,  it  would  be  her  duty  to  with- 
draw at  once,  unless  told  to  remain.  The  male  and 
female  Superiors  always  see  each  other  alone,  except 
in  council — that  is,  in  a  secret  meeting  of  the  Superiors 
and  their  officers.  When  a  sister  commits  an  offense, 
she  is  brought  before  the  council,  and  all  afiairs  of  im- 
portance are  settled  by  these  inquisitors  at  such  meet- 


60  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ings.  I  was  frequently  threatened  with  arraignment 
before  this  tribunal,  but  fortunately  was  not  brought 
up  for  trial. 

A  few  weeks  after  my  admission,  I  observed  that  on 
every  Wednesday,  between  the  hours  of  two  and  three 
in  the  afternoon,  the  windows  of  the  novitiate  and  com- 
munity-room were  closed,  and  the  doors  carefully  lock- 
ed. All  the  "  postulants"  were  then  sent  to  the  kitch- 
en, myself  among  the  number,  there  to  remain  at  work 
until  the  sound  of  the  three  o'clock  bell.  This  I  shall 
explain  hereafter.  This  period  of  the  day  is  desig- 
nated as  the  "  silence  hour ;"  it  is  a  season  of  strict 
silence  ;  not  one  word  may  be  uttered ;  the  eyes  are 
kept  fixed  on  the  work  or  on  the  floor.  It  was  some 
tune  before  I  learned  the  object  of  this  rule,  as  indeed 
of  many  others — not  until  I  had  made  my  ''retreat,'''' 
which,  as  I  have  elsewhere  stated,  is  an  interval  of 
several  days  spent  in  prayer,  meditation,  and  spiritual 
reading.  During  this  retreat,  the  rules  and  regulations 
are  for  the  first  time  made  known  or  read  to  the  "  pos- 
tulants" by  the  mistress  of  novices. 

Those  who  have  recently  entered  the  community, 
and  are  called  novices  or  seminary  sisters,  and  not 
vowed  or  professed  sisters,  are  nevertheless  bound  and 
compelled  to  keep  the  vows  with  even  greater  strict- 
ness than  those  who  are  professed.  The  vows  of  pov- 
erty, chastity,  and  obedience  are  to  be  observed  by 
those  young  sisters ;  but  a  priest*  may  violate  his 
vows  with  impunity,  and  the  sisters  will  be  constrain- 

*  I  speak  here  of  the  priests  of  the  Order  of  "  Lazarists,"  or  Con- 
gregation of  Missions,  which  has  the  same  founder  with  the  Order  of  St. 
Joseph — the  priests  being  called  the  sons,  and  the  sisters  the  daughters. 


THE   INSTITUTION   AT   EMMETTSBURG.  61 

cd  to  obey,  being  under  the  vow  of  obedience,  whicli 
is  of  superior  force  to  the  other  obligations  taken.  He 
may  err,  but  she  will  do  right  in  obeying. 

A  religieuse  can  not  hold  property  of  her  own ;  from 
the  moment  that  she  enters  the  community,  it  belongs 
to  the  Superior.     She  can  not,  if  at  any  time  visited  by 
her  family  or  friends,  see  them  without  permission  ;  she 
can  not  receive  or  send  a  letter ;  neither  can  she  give  or 
receive  any  object,  even  from  a  member  of  the  com- 
munity, without  obtaining  permission.      Should  one 
sister  desire  to  give  another  a  small  picture  from  her 
prayer-book,  she  must  first  go  to  the  mistress  of  nov- 
ices, kneel,  and  ask  to  be  allowed  to  make  the  gift. 
Sometimes  the  request  will  be  granted,  at  others  the 
article,  will  be  taken  from  her.     Should  the  Superior  or 
the  officers  suppose  that  a  sister  prefers  a  particular 
duty,  she  is  assigned  one  that  she  is  known  to  dislike. 
Often  is  a  sister  requured  to  part  with  some  sacred  or- 
nament even,  as  a  set  of  beads,  or  a  crucifix,  on  the 
ground  that  there  may  be  a  special  attachment  for  the 
object.     The  rule  requires  that  particular  friendships 
should  be  guarded  against.     One  sister  is  not  suffered 
to  converse  with  another  respecting  her  own  private 
feelings,  nor  to  ask  or  answer  a  question,  unless  in  the 
performance  of  a  task,  and  that  only  when  absolutely 
necessary.     In  such  a  case  it  must  be  done  in  a  very 
few  words,  and  in  a  very  low  tone  of  voice,  almost  in 
a  whisper.     A  sister  is  not  allowed  to  speak  with  or 
recognize  another  in  the  corridor,  or  in  any  part  of  the 
house;  but  should  an  officer — one  having  authority 
under  the  Superior — meet  a  sister,  the  latter  must  an- 
swer in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  in  as  few  words  as  possible, 


62  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

and  with  downcast  eyes.  No  one  is  permitted  to  look 
through  a  window,  or  to  gaze  around  her;  she  must 
walk  with  a  measured  step,  her  hands  clasped  on  her 
breast,  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground.  Sisters 
are  forbidden  to  look  each  other  in  the  face ;  to  do  so  is 
a  breach  of  the  rules.  They  may  not  ask  for  any  ob- 
ject whatever,  and  must  receive  every  duty  imposed 
without  murmuring. 

When  a  sister  is  sent  for  by  the  Father  Superior, 
she  is  generally  called  by  the  sister  who  keeps  the 
door.  She  pauses  at  the  threshold  until  told  to  enter, 
closes  the  door,  advances,  and,  kneeling,  kisses  the  floor, 
at  the  same  time  saying,  "  Father,  your  blessing." 
This  given,  she  seats  herself  and  listens  to  his  instruc- 
tions. When  told  to  depart,  she  again  kneels  and 
kisses  the  floor,  and  asks  his  blessing.  This  degrad- 
ing act  is  performed  by  every  sister  when  entering  or 
leaving  the  novitiate,  saying  at  the  same  time  an  jLve 
Maria — that  is,  repeating  once  the  angel's  salutation 
to  the  Virgin,  "Hail  Mary,"  etc.  Those  who  wear 
the  cornet,  a  head-dress  hereafter  to  be  described,  kiss 
the  crucifix  which  hangs  at  the  side  attached  to  their 
beads,  and  say  the  Hail  Mary. 

This  prayer  is  generally  said  kneeling  in  front  of 
an  altar  dedicated  to  the  patron  of  the  institution,  St. 
Joseph.  It  may  be  repeated,  however,  in  any  part  of 
the  novitiate,  except  near  the  door.  After  this  short 
petition,  those  who  leave  the  room,  if  more  devout  than 
the  rest,  sometimes  turn  toward  the  statue  of  the  saint 
and  make  a  bow.  A  sister,  in  passing  the  statue  of 
St.  Vincent,  founder  of  the  order,  always  bows  and 
says  a  prayer  invoking  his  intercession.     Upon  the 


THE   INSTITUTION   AT   EMMETTSBURG.  63 

altar  in  the  community-room  is  a  very  large  statue  of 
the  Virgin  ]\Iary ;  every  one  bows  toward  it  when  en- 
tering or  leaving  the  room. 

Members  of  the  community  are  sometimes  allowed 
to  have  a  smaU  statue  of  a  saint  in  their  rooms,  or  a 
picture  of  some  devotional  subject  hanging  upon  the 
wall ;  but  they  can  not  keep  either  without  ^permission, 
and  must  resign  the  object  if  commanded  to  give  it  up. 
This  is  occasionally  done,  doubtless  as  a  test  of  obe- 
dience.   Not  a  word  is  to  be  spoken  after  the  "  sdence 
bell,"  which  rings  about  eight  in  the   evening.     No 
sister  is  permitted  to  take  a  drink  of  water  after  that 
time;  it  is  a  breach  of  the  rule,  and  will  be  reported 
by  those  who  watch,  who  are  placed  around  the  house 
as  spies,  to  notice  every  movement  and  make  known 
all  infractions  of  order  to  the  authorities  of  the  insti- 
tution. 

When  suffering  from  thirst,  it  is  deemed  acceptable 
to  God,  and  the  suffering  is  offered  to  the  Virgin  Mary 
as  an  atonement  for  some  past  sin. 


64  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

EOUTINE  OF  A  DAY — MORNING. 

The  daily  occupations  of  the  inmates  of  a  "relig- 
ions house"  consist  wholly  of  devotional  exercises  and 
domestic  tasks.  A  brief  relation  of  the  manner  in 
which  a  single  day  is  passed  will  give  a  correct  idea 
of  the  ordinary  routine  of  novitiate  life  at  St.  Joseph's, 
and  may  be  of  interest  to  the  reader. 

At  the  first  stroke  of  the  bell,  which  rings  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  every  novice  or  seminary  sis- 
ter rises  hastily  from  her  bed,  falls  prostrate,  and  kiss- 
es the  floor.  At  the  same  time,  one  who  has  been  ap- 
pointed utters  this  aspiration  in  a  loud,  shrill  tone  of 
voice,  that  echoes  through  the  dormitory,  "In  the 
name  of  God,  my  sisters,  let  us  rise ;"  and  as  the 
words  resound  through  the  dormitories,  the  response 
is  at  once  made,  "May  the  holy  name  of  God  be  bless- 
ed!" Should  a  sister  fail  to  rise  at  the  first  sum- 
mons of  the  beU,  or  omit  saying  the  aspiration,  she  is 
reported,  and  is  required  to  do  penance  as  for  a  great 
offense.  In  such  cases  one  sister  reports  another,  and 
is  commended  for  so  doing.  All  dress  with  rapidity 
and  in  perfect  silence,  and  make  their  beds ;  then  pro- 
ceed down  two  pair  of  stairs  to  the  wash-room,  where 
the  ablutions  are  performed  without  a  word  spoken. 


ROUTINE    OF    A    DAY ilORNING.  65 

Here  some  have  to  wait  for  others,  and  oftentimes  ali 
this  has  to  be  done  in  the  dark.  While  in  the  wash- 
room, a  hell  is  heard  in  a  distant  part  of  the  building  : 
this  is  called  the  warning-bell.  After  the  lapse  of  a 
few  minutes  another  bell  is  rung  near  the  door  of  the 
room.  Should  a  sister  leave  the  room  after  the  ring- 
ing of  this  second  bell,  she  is  marked  and  reported  by 
one  who  acts  in  the  capacity  of  a  spy. 

Each  proceeds  next  to  a  dimly-lighted  room  under 
the  chapel,  and  takes  from  a  drawer,  numbered  for  the 
purpose,  her  prayer-book,  which  she  keeps  there  per- 
haps with  one  or  two  other  religious  books.  The 
books,  however,  which  a  sister  may  bring  with  her  on 
entering  the  institution  are  generally  taken  from  her 
to  replenish  thfe  library.  A  small  volume,  called  the 
Community  Book,  or  Formulary,  is  always  kept  in 
the  pocket :  it  contains  the  prayers  used  by  the  sis- 
terhood. 

When  all  have  reached  their  places  in  the  chapel,  a 
small  clock  near  the  door  strikes  the  half  hour,  and 
should  a  sister  enter  after  this  period,  she  is  required 
to  go  to  the  mistress  of  novices,  kneel  before  her,  and 
kiss  the  floor,  in  addition  to  which  she  may  expect 
the  infliction  of  some  farther  penance. 

The  sister  who  is  appointed  to  read  prayers  now 
says,  "  My  sisters,  let  us  remember  that  God  wishes 
to  be  adored  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  therefore  let  us 
pray  to  him  with  our  whole  heart,  and  with  attention  : 
In  nomine  Patris,"  etc.  Then  follows  a  prayer  com- 
mencing thus  :  "  My  God,  I  believe  that  thou  art  here 
present,"  etc.  A  prayer  is  then  said  to  invoke  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  performance  of  the 


G6  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

morning  meditation.  After  another  short  prayer,  the 
first  "  point"  of  the  morning  meditation  is  read.  This 
"  point"  is  a  short  sentence,  or  a  few  sentences,  men- 
tioning some  topic  of  devotional  contemplation,  as  the 
circumstances  of  our  Lord's  Passion ;  the  utterance  of 
which  is  followed  by  a  silent  meditation,  lasting  half  an 
hour.  The  second  point  of  the  meditation  is  read 
when  the  clock  has  struck  the  next  half  hour.  It  is 
observed  in  a  kneeling  posture,  with  the  body  perfect- 
ly erect  and  motionless,  and  the  hands  clasped  in  front 
of  the  breast.  The  position  is  most  painful  and  fa- 
tiguing, and  taxes  the  powers  of  endurance  to  a  very 
trying  extent.  The  slightest  movement,  while  thus 
engaged,  is  severely  punished,  and  not  unfrequently 
the  poor  sister  wlio  is  compelled  to  remain  so  long  in 
this  attitude  of  rigid  constraint  becomes  exhausted  and 
faints  before  the  exercise  is  over.  The  hour  completed, 
a  sister  says,  "Let  us  thank  God  for  the  graces  we 
have  received  during  our  meditation."  Then  follows 
a  prayer — "I  thank  thee,  O  God,  for  the  holy  light," 
etc.  Other  supplications  are  added  in  English  and  in 
Latin.  Soon  the  church-bell  rings,  and  the  Angelus 
is  repeated.  The  sister  who  has  been  appointed  to 
read  says,  "Angelus  Domini  nuntiavit  Marine,"  etc. 
(The  angel  of  the  Lord  declared  to  Mary,  and  she  con- 
ceived of  the  Holy  Ghost.)  The  community  respond 
'■'■Ave  Maria,^'' etc.  Then  another  sentence,  "Behold 
the  handmaid  of  the  Lord,"  etc.,  followed  by  another 
Ave  Maria.  Then  the  sister  says,  "And  the  Word 
was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us,"  when  every  sis- 
ter kisses  the  back  of  the  seat  before  her.  During 
Easter  week  the  Regina  Codi  (a  hymn  to  the  virgin 


ROUTINE   OF   A   DAY — MOENING.  G7 

"Queen   of  heaven")  is  substituted  for  the  "Ange- 

lus." 

When  the  bell  is  heard  again,  a  prayer  is  said,  be- 
ginning, "  Pour  forth,  we  beseech  thee,  O  Lord,  thy 
grace  into  our  hearts,"  etc.  Then  the  "  Litany  of  the 
holy  name  of  Jesus"  is  repeated  in  Latin,  several  pray- 
ers follow,  together  with  the  Miserere,  the  Creed,  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  the  Hail  Mary,  and  the  De  Profundis, 
which  is  said  for  the  repose  of  the  last  Superior  or 
priest,  the  directress,  and  the  confessors. 

These  prayers  being  finished,  the  sister  says,  "  Let 
us  remember  the  presence  of  God,  and  the  resolutions 
we  have  taken  in  the  meditation  we  have  made."  The 
Superior's  assistant  then  repeats  one  verse  of  the  V€7ii 
Creator  Sjnritus,  and  the  community  respond,  the 
whole  terminating  with  a  short  prayer  to  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Then  the  "  offering  of  the  chaplet"  (or  rosary) 
is  made,  commencing  "  Li  nomine  Patris,"  etc.,  and 
proceeding  thus :  "  My  God,  I  offer  thee  the  chaplet  I 
am  going  to  say,"  at  which  words  every  sister  takes 
her  beads  in  her  hands,  "  to  praise  and  glorify  thee, 
to  honor  thee ;  sixty-three  years  the  blessed  Virgin 
passed  on  earth ;  to  beg  of  thee  the  grace  to  imitate 
her  in  the  virtues  which  she  practiced,  particularly  her 
humility,  her  charity,  her  obedience,  her  hidden  and 
interior  life ;  to  comply  v/ith  our  holy  rules  and  vows ; 
and  for  our  deceased  sisters  for  whom  we  have  not  yet 
satisfied ;  for  the  wants  of  the  Church,  of  the  commu- 
nity, those  of  the  seminary,  and  our  own  in  particu- 
lar ;  with  the  intention  of  gaining  the  indulgences  at- 
tached to  our  chaplet,  and  for  all  those  for  whom  w^e 
are  most  bound  to  pray,  as  well  living  as  dead.     I  be- 


68 

lieve,  etc.  Our  Father.  Hail  3klary.  Glory  be  to  the 
Father,"  etc. 

The  morning  service  concludes  with  a  prayer  to  the 
"  Mother  of  God"  in  these  words :  "  IMost  holy  Virgin, 
I  believe  and  confess  thy  most  holy  and  immaculate 
conception,  pure  and  without  stain.  O  most  pure  Vir- 
gin, through  thy  virginal  purity,  thy  immaculate  con- 
ception, thy  glorious  quality  of  mother  of  God,  obtain 
for  me  of  thy  dear  Son  humility,  charity,  great  purity 
of  heart,  of  body,  and  of  mind,  holy  perseverance  in 
my  cherished  vocation,  the  gift  of  prayer,  a  holy  life, 
and  a  happy  death."  From  this  prayer  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  sisterhood  at  St.  Joseph's  were  a  step  in  ad- 
vance of  the  papal  infallibility  in  the  acceptance  of 
the  dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  before  its 
^promulgation  at  the  court  of  Rome.  "  F^  Behold  the 
handmaid  of  the  Lord.  JR.  Be  it  done  unto  me  ac- 
cording to  thy  word.  Y.  O  Jesus  !  be  to  me  a  Jesus. 
R.  Now  and  at  the  hour  of  our  death.  Amen."  Then 
the  "  mystery"  for  the  day  is  said — that  is,  a  short  pe- 
tition having  reference  to  some  part  of  our  Lord's  pas- 
sion, as,  for  instance,  "  O  Jesus,  by  thy  prayer  in  the 
garden  of  olives,  grant,"  etc.  Each  sister  now  kisses 
the  seat  in  front  of  her,  and  the  church-bell  rings  for 
the  first  mass. 

Two  masses  are  said  every  day  at  St.  Joseph's,  the 
second  of  which  is  attended  by  the  boarders,  and  those 
of  the  community  who  are  more  privileged,  being  per- 
mitted to  sleep  until  the  "Angelus,"  or  about  two 
hours  after  the  first  bell.  The  first  mass  being  over, 
the  sisterhood  proceed  in  rank,  two  by  two,  in  perfect 
silence,  to  the  novitiate  and  community-room.     After 


ROUTINE   OF   A    DAY — MORNING.  69 

entering  the'  novitiate,  every  sister  kisses  tlie  Hoor. 
Those  wearing  the  cornet^  however,  kneel  and  kiss 
their  crucifix,  bending  nearly  to  the  floor,  as  their 
head-dress,  extending  to  a  point  that  projects  over  the 
face,  prevents  touching  the  floor  in  this  ceremony. 
Then  are  said  three  times  the  Ava  Maria,  and  seven 
times  the  Gloria  Patri. 

■  Prayers  over,  the  sisters  fall  upon  their  knees,  kiss 
the  floor  again,  and  proceed  in  rank  to  the  refectory. 
Here  all  turn  toward  a  crucifix  that  hangs  upon  the 
wall,  kneel,  and  kiss  the  floor;  then  each  says  the 
Benedicite,  kissing  the  floor  ;  and  seating  themselves, 
they  eat  in  perfect  silence  their  morning  meal.  This 
consists  of  a  morsel  of  bread,  often  without  butter,  and 
coffee  and  tea  served  in  tin  cups.  Coffee  is  the  bev- 
erage of  the  community,  and  no  one  can  take  tea  with- 
out obtaining  permission  to  do  so.  No  spoons  are 
used ;  the  tea  and  coffee  are  prepared  in  the  kitchen, 
and  poured  into  each  cup  as  the  portion  allotted. 
Breakfast  concluded,  each  kisses  the  floor,  again  re- 
peats the  Benedicite,  again  kisses  the  floor,  returns  to 
the  novitiate  or  community-room,  and  taking  her  pray- 
er-book, places  it  in  the  drawer  appropriated  to  her. 
Each  then  proceeds  to  her  particular  occupation — some 
to  the  dormitories,  cells,  kitchen,  refectories,  sacristy, 
cellars,  clothes-room,  wash-room,  and  other  parts  of 
the  building ;  and  those  who  teach  in  the  academy  to 
their  classes  when  the  bell  rings.  Silence  and  "  recol- 
lection"* are  required  to  be  strictly  observed. 

*  Recollection,  in  French  recueillement,  is  used  in  the  jargon  of  Ro- 
manism to  signify  a  devout  collectedness  of  mind — abstraction  from 
the  world. 


70  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

In  addition  to  all  the  religious  observances  and  du- 
ties foregoing  and  hereafter  to  be  related,  there  are 
prayers  and  "  aspiratioiis"  to  be  said  at  every  hour  of 
the  day,  as  follows :  Whenever  the  clock  strikes  an 
hour,  a  sister  rises,  crosses  herself,  and  says,  in  a  loud 
tone,  "  Live,  Jesus,"  and  bows  her  head.  Every  sis- 
ter responds,  "Forever  in  our  hearts."  Then  the  mis- 
tress of  novices  repeats  the  "mysteries,"  of  which 
there  is  a  different  one  for  every  hour  of  the  twenty- 
four.  These  are  the  mysteries  of  our  Lord's  Passion. 
When  this  is  said,  the  sister  who  is  standing  com- 
mences a  long  prayer,  "  O  sacred  heart  of  Jesus,"  etc. ; 
after  which  the  mistress  of  novices  makes  an  "  as;pi- 
ratioi'C^  for  the  month,  and  the  sisters  respond.  The 
sister  then  resumes  her  place.  Every  hour  of  the  day 
or  night  the  sisters  thus  "make  the  hour,"  as  it  is 
called,  either  orally  or  mentally,  if  they  are  awake. 

The  performance  of  floor-kissing^  in  token  of  hu- 
mility, takes  place,  I  venture  to  affirm,  at  least  twenty 
times  in  the  course  of  the  twenty-four  hours.  One 
might  suppose  from  this  ceremony  that  some  peculiar 
and  magical  property  resides  even  in  the  senseless 
boards  of  this  holy  institution. 

In  addition  to  the  religious  exercises  thus  briefly  de- 
scribed, from  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  nine  at 
night  an  uninterrupted  "  adoration^''  before  the  altar 
is  maintained.  By  this  I  mean  that,  during  the  time 
specified,  some  one  member  of  the  community  must  be 
constantly  kneeling  at  the  altar  in  the  chapel  and  re- 
citing prayers.*     Each  sister  engaged  in  this  office  rc- 

*  This  perpetual  adoration,  as  it  is  called,  is  in  behalf  of  the  exten- 
sion of  the  conif re'ration  of  the  missions. 


ROUTINE   OF   A   DAY — MORNING.  71 

mains  for  lialf  an  hour  in  the  attitude  of  devotion, 
when,  as  the  clock  strikes  the  termination  of  her  du- 
ties, another  sister  who  has  just  entered  kneels  behind 
her  and  takes  her  place.  One  of  the  sisterhood  is 
appointed  to  see  that  this  adoration  be  constantly  kept 
up  ;  and  she  must  so  arrange  the  succession  of  duties, 
that  they  shall  not  interfere  with  the  other  employ- 
ments of  those  whom  she  calls  upon  to  make  this  ado- 
ration. Severe  penance  is  inflicted  should  she  be  re- 
miss or  unsuccessful  in  this  charge ;  and  it  is  a  most 
burdensome  one,  as  I  have  learned  by  experience. 

Should  a  sister  finish  her  work  before  the  eleven 
o'clock  bell,  which  rings  for  prayers,  she  goes  to  the 
novitiate,  and  takes  some  work  from  a  sister  having 
charge  of  the  plain  sewing ;  but  this  seldom  occurs. 
At  the  first  sound  of  the  bell,  each  must  leave  her  em- 
ployment and  come  to  the  novitiate,  kiss  the  floor, 
and  take  her  place  in  rank.  Should  a  sister  fail  to  be 
in  time  to  take  her  place  in  the  ranks  which  are  form- 
ed to  proceed  to  the  chapel,  she  goes  to  the  side  of  the 
mistress  of  novices,  kisses  the  floor,  and  is  assigned 
a  penance  for  her  offense.  This  penance  consists  of  a 
number  of  prayers. 

In  passing  before  a  certain  statue  of  St.  Vincent  de 
Paul,  founder  of  the  order,  which  stands  in  a  corner 
of  the  corridor,  the  sisters  invariably  bow.  In  going 
to  the  chapel,  as  well  as  in  returning,  the  rank  must 
be  preserved,  and  the  sisters  thus  advance  with  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  floor,  repeating,  at  the  same  time,  a 
"ten  of  the  chaplet,"  consisting  of  ten  Ave  Marias, 
one  Gloria  Patri,  one  Pater  Woster,  and  a  prayer  to 
the  Virgin,  commencing,  "  Most  holy  Virgin,  I  believe 


72  Mitiis  bunkley's  book. 

and  confess  thy  holy   and  immaculate   conception," 
etc. 

All  being  assembled  in  the  chapel,  each  sister  kisses 
the  back  of  the  seat  before  her.  The  bell  rings,  and 
at  the  sound  of  it  the  Superior,  or,  in  her  absence,  her 
assistant,  says  the  prayer  commencing  *'  Veni  Sancte 
Sjyiritus, "  etc.  Then  the ' '  examination  of  conscience" 
is  gone  through,  all  kneeling  with  the  hands  clasped 
before  the  heart.  This  ended,  the  sister  appointed  to 
read  prayers  says,  "For  our  deceased  sisters  and 
benefactors,  the  Be  Profundis  /"  and  that  psalm  is 
repeated.  A  short  prayer  in  Latin  and  one  in  En- 
glish, addressed  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  close  these  devo- 
tions, which  are  called  the  dinner-prayers.  Before 
leaving  the  chapel,  the  Superior,  or  her  assistant,  raps 
loudly,  when  every  sister  kisses  the  back  of  the  seat 
before  her,  and  takes  her  place  in  the  rank.  Then, 
with  beads  in  hand,  and  eyes  cast  down,  saying  an- 
other "  ten"  of  the  chaplct,  they  go  to  the  refectory. 
Should  any  disorder  occur  during  this  procedure,  the 
delinquent  is  reported  by  one  of  the  sisters  stationed 
as  a  spy  for  this  purpose. 

In  the  refectory  are  placed  five  tables.  One  is  oc- 
cupied by  the  vow-sisters,  over  which  the  Superior 
presides  whenever  she  takes  her  meals  in  this  hall. 
Habitually,  however,  she  has  them  served  in  her  own 
room.  Another  seat  is  taken  by  her  assistant,  anoth- 
er by  the  mistress  of  novices,  another  by  an  officer, 
and  the  remaining  one  by  a  novice,  which  was  assign- 
ed to  me.  Dinner  consists  generally  of  soup — which 
is  the  chief  article  of  food — meat,  potatoes,  and  bread. 
Of  vegetables  a  very  few,  and  small  variety.     No  fruit 


ROLTIXE    UF    A    DAY MORNING.  7%* 

is  ever  allowed  to  the  novices,  and  rarely  to  the  vo^v> 
sisters,  as  far  as  I  know. 

Each  sister  has  a  napkin  at  the  side  of  her  plaL>, 
knife,  fork,  and  spoon  (which  are  of  iron  or  pewter), 
and  a  tin  cup.  After  the  ceremony  of  turning  to  the 
crucifix,  clasping  the  hands  upon  the  breast,  and  say- 
ing the  Benedicite,  which  is  repeated  by  the  Superior 
or  her  assistant,  the  meal  is  partaken  of  in  silence  by 
those  occupying  the  tables,  while  a  chapter  is  being 
read  from  the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  or  from  a  book  en- 
titled Christian  Perfection,  and  another  from  the  Ro- 
man Marty rology.  This  reading  is  performed  by  one 
of  the  sisters,  who  takes  her  own  dinner  when  all  have 
withdrawn  from  the  refectory.  Another  waits  on  the 
tables,  and,  when  all  have  finished,  gives  intimation 
of  the  fact  to  the  Superior  or  her  assistant  by  a  bow  in 
front  of  her ;  then,  at  a  loud  rap  on  the  table,  all  rise, 
clasp  their  hands  as  before,  and  again  repeat  the  Ben- 
edicite. The  rank  is  again  formed,  the  Superior  go- 
ing first  with  her  officers,  followed  by  the  vow-sisters 
and  novices  or  seminary  sisters,  saying,  as  usual,  a 
"ten"  of  the  chaplet,  and  bowing  when  they  pass  the 
statue  of  St.Yincent.  As  soon  as  all  are  seated  in 
the  chapel,  the  bell  rings,  and  each,  as  usual,  kisses 
the  back  of  the  seat  before  her.  Several  prayers  are 
now  said  in  Latin,  after  which  the  sisters  retire  to  the 
community-room  and  novitiate.  In  the  latter  room 
several  prayers  are  said  before  the  altar  of  St.  Joseph. 

D 


74  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

EOUTINE   OF  A   DAY — AFTERNOON. 

The  prayers  after  dinner  "being  ended,  the  sisters 
proceed  to  their  respective  duties,  at  which  not  an  un- 
necessary word  is  to  be  spoken.  Should  any  one  fin- 
ish her  task  before  two  o'clock,  she  goes  to  the  novi- 
tiate, and  then  may  obtain  the  privilege  of  conversing 
until  two  o'clock,  but  only  upon  permitted  topics* 
This  is  termed  the  period  of  recreation. 

To  prevent  the  interchange  of  thought  and  opinion, 
very  strict  regulations  exist  on  the  subject  of  conver- 
sation. The  only  seasons  allowed  for  this  purpose  are 
these  few  minutes  after  dinner  and  supper,  and  then, 
as  I  have  said,  only  upon  certain  topics.  Any  obser- 
vations or  inquiries  respecting  the  health  and  feelings 
of  the  sisters  are  especially  prohibited.  At  their  oc- 
cupations or  duties  no  talking  is  allowed,  except  so 
far  as  may  be  absolutely  necessary  for  their  proper 
discharge.  In  addition  to  this,  as  will  be  seen,  there 
are  seasons  of  positive  and  complete  silence,  during 
which  not  a  single  word  is  permitted. 

Before  the  two  o'clock  bell  sounds  every  sister  gets 
her  Catechism,  and  takes  her  seat  in  the  novitiate* 

*  It  will  be  observed  that  these  statements  of  the  occupations  of  the 
sisters  are  confined  to  the  novitiate,  where  I  had  my  place.     Of  what 


EOUTINE  OF  A  DAY — AFTERNOON.       75 

with  the  work  given  her  during  the  recreation-hoiir. 
From  two  to  three  o'clock  is  an  interval  of  strict  si- 
lence. Not  a  voice  is  heard  throughout  the  entire 
building,  and  not  a  member  of  the  community  raises 
her  eyes  from  the  floor,  the  Catechism,  or  the  work 
upon  which  they  are  flxed.  Should  any  sister  need 
a  supply  of  thread,  or  another  needle,  or  a  pair  of 
scissors,  she  is  not  suffered  to  ask  another  sister  for 
what  she  requires,  nor  to  receive  it  if  oifered,  nor  even 
to  ask  the  mistress  of  novices,  who  is  walking  around 
the  room.  She  must  sit  through  tlie  hour  without  be- 
ing able  to  perform  the  Avork  assigned  to  her,  for  which 
very  failure  she  will  assuredly  be  obliged  to  do  pen- 
ance. In  such  cases,  a  sister  will  often,  for  fear  of 
discovery  by  the  mistress  of  novices  as  she  passes  by, 
move  her  beads,  or  otherwise  feign  occupation,  trem- 
bling all  the  while  lest  her  want  of  employment  be 
observed. 

During  this  season  the  mistress  of  novices  is  con- 
tinually perambulating  the  room,  peering  into  each 
face ;  and  should  she  observe  the  eyes  of  any  sister 
in  the  least  uplifted,  or  the  face  raised,  she  will  put  her 
hand  on  the  head,  and,  with  a  sudden  jerk,  force  it 
downward,  saying,  "  Keep  your  eyes  down."  Some- 
times she  gives  a  lecture  during  this  silence-hour,  and 
at  the  close  of  it  a  spiritual  reading  is  performed  by 
one  of  the  sisters  appointed  beforehand  for  the  purpose. 
This  reading  is  selected  either  from  the  "Life  of 
Christ"  or  from  the  "  Conferences,"  of  which  more 
hereafter.     The  sister  appointed  goes,  at  the  close  of 

occurred  in  the  community-room,  among  the  "  vow-sisters,"  I  do  not  at 
present  speak. 


76  MISS    13UNKLEY  S    BOOK. 

the  lecture,  to  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  She 
then  receives  a  signal  from  the  mistress  of  novices, 
who  nods  her  head,  raises  her  hand,  or  raps  npon  the 
table,  and  then  says,  "i?i  no7ni7ie,''  -when  the  sister  at 
once  takes  up  the  invocation,  repeating  it  in  Latin,  and 
then  adding  in  English,  '•  In  the  name  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  Then  she  takes  hold  of  the  book  with 
both  hands  and  commences  to  read.  Should  any  of 
these  formalities  be  neglected,  the  mistress  of  novices 
advances  to  the  sister  and  reprimands  her  severely. 

The  "class  sisters,"  or  those  engaged  in  teaching 
in  the  academy,  sometimes  come  in  late,  just  after  the 
ringing  of  the  bell,  being  detained  by  their  duties.  Li 
such  cases  the  rules  are  more  particularly  enforced, 
and  penance  is  enjoined  ;  as  also  in  cases  of  walking 
too  fast,  holding  up  the  head,  raising  the  eyelids,  etc. 
This  penance  consists  in  kissing  the  floor,  kneehng  be- 
fore the  altar,  saying  prayers,  etc.  The  Superior  and 
the  mistress  of  novices  recommend  that,  in  going  to 
or  from  their  duties  at  tlie  silence-hour,  the  sisters 
should  be  engaged  in  "  saying  beads,"  or  repeating  the 
prayers  customary  in  the  use  of  the  chaplet. 

In  one  instance  I  was  late  at  the  silence-hour,  and 
came  in  with  a  handkerchief  in  my  hand,  as  it  was  a 
very  warm  day.  The  mistress  of  novices  called  me 
to  her,  rebuked  me  sharply,  and  made  me  kiss  the 
floor,  saying  that  it  looked  too  worldly  to  have  a  hand- 
kerchief in  my  hand  instead  of  keeping  it  in  my  apron 
pocket.  She  threatened  me  with  severe  penance  if 
found  guilty  of  such  an  offense  again. 

In  the  comimmitij-room,  during  silence-hour,  the 
sisters  have  spiritual  readings  for  about  a  quarter  of 


ROUTINE    OF   A    DAY AFTERNOON.  77 

an  liour  ;  the  remainder  of  the  time  they  spend  in  any 
kind  of  fancy-work  that  they  may  select.  Their  eyes 
are  also  kept  down,  but  the  Lady  Superior  does  not, 
like  the  mistress  of  novices,  move  about  to  watch  the 
countenances  of  the  sisters ; '  she  remains  in  her  own 
room,  and  reads  or  sews.  At  this  hour  silence  is  also 
observed  in  the  wfirmary.  The  sick  read  some  re- 
ligious book,  and  sometimes  say  a  "  ten"  of  the  chap- 
let.  At  the  close  of  silence-hour  the  three  o'clock 
bell  is  rung,  and  the  mistress  of  novices  says  a  prayer 
called  the  "Adoration  Prayer,"  the  sisters  responding. 
Those  class  sisters  who  leave  the  community-room 
and  novitiate  before  the  close  of  silence-hour,  at  half 
past  two,  say  this  prayer  before  the  bell  rings,  in  a 
small  chapel  of  the  academy. 

After  the  three  o'clock  bell,  as  it  is  called,  every 
sister  goes  at  once  to  her  usual  duties.  Silence  and 
recollection  are  observed  in  doing  this,  as  at  other 
times.  The  utterance  of  a  single  unnecessary  word 
is  reported,  every  part  of  the  building  having  its  spy 
for  that  purpose. 

Before  five  o'clock,  those  who  finish  their  tasks  re- 
sort to  the  novitiate,  and  take  sewing  from  the  sister 
who  has  cliarge  of  the  w^ork.  When  the  clock  strikes 
five,  all  in  the  room  range  themselves  on  one  side  in  a 
row,  and  one  takes  a  chair  apart  from  the  rest  to  "  say 
beads."  Six  "tens"  of  the  chaplet  are  then  said,  all 
responding.  Then  are  repeated  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
the  Creed,  the  Litany  of  the  Virgin  Mary ;  and  about 
the  close  of  the  prayers  the  bell  rings  for  the  evening 
meditation.  After  assembling  as  usual  in  the  noviti- 
ate and  community-room,  the  rank  is  formed,  and  the 


78  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

sisterhood  proceed  to  the  chapel,  where  half  an  hour 
is  spent  in  meditation  and  prayer.  After  prayers  the 
bell  rings,  and  the  sisters  walk  in  order  to  the  refec- 
tory for  supper. 

Supper  consists  of  a  piece  of  bread,  with  sometimes 
a  small  piece  of  butter,  and  sometimes  molasses.  Aft- 
er this  meal  a  "  ten"  of  the  chaplet  is  said  in  the  chap- 
el. If  it  be  the  evening  before  holy  communion,  at 
lea^  as  often  as  three  times  a  wxek,  the  sisters  must 
obtain  permission  to  receive  the  sacrament.  The  mo- 
ment before  leaving  the  chapel,  the  vow-sisters  kneel 
before  the  Lady  Superior  or  her  assistant,  and  say, 
"Please,  mother,"  or  "  sister,"  if  it  be  her  assistant, 
"let  me  go  to  holy  communion,"  and  then  they  kiss 
their  crucifix.  The  Lady  Superior  sits  near  the  door 
behind  the  sisters,  and  in  this  supplication  they  turn 
their  backs  to  the  altar.  As  the  vow-sisters  are  rising 
from  their  knees  and  forming  the  rank,  the  novices, 
who  sit  between  them  and  the  altar,  turn  toward  them, 
kneel,  kiss  the  floor,  and  say,  "Please,  sisters,  let  me 
go  to  holy  communion."  On  the  day  before  commu- 
nion, at  silence-hour,  the  novices  have  also  to  obtain 
permission  from  the  mistress  of  novices  in  the  same 
manner,  but  without  speaking.  Then  is  said  the  usual 
prayer  in  the  novitiate  and  community-room,  after 
which  all  retire  to  their  duties.  A  number  of  the  sis- 
ters go  to  the  refectories,  where  the  tables  are  to  be 
prepared  for  the  morning  meal.  Should  the  work  be 
finished  before  the  bell  for  prayers,  all  go  to  the  no- 
vitiate and  community-room.  This  is  also  called  the 
hour  of  "  recreation,"  when  such  of  the  sisters  are  al- 
lowed, as  after  dinner,  to  converse  upon  permitted  top- 


ROUTINE   OF   A   DAY — AFTERNOON.  79 

ics.  At  eight  the  silence-bell  is  rung.  The  meditation 
for  the  following  morning  is  read  in  advance  by  a  sister, 
to  occupy  their  wakeful  moments  during  the  night. 

I  should  say  that,  after  suj^per,  each  of  the  sisters 
is  required  to  take  her  knitting ;  no  one  sits  idle  for  a 
moment,  even  dui'ing  the  so-called  "recreation."  Aft- 
er the  reading  of  this  meditation,  the  mistress  of  nov- 
ices calls  upon  some  sister  to  offer  remarks  upon  the 
subject  of  the  meditation.  The  sister  called  upon 
usually  expresses  her  thoughts  in  a  few  sentences  ; 
sometimes  several  are  called  upon  during  the  evening. 
At  the  ringing  of  the  second  bell,  at  eight  and  a  half 
o'clock,  the  sisters  form  rank  and  proceed  to  the  chap- 
el, where  night-prayers  are  said  till  about  nine  o'clock. 
These  prayers  are  similar  in  a  great  degree  to  those  of 
the  morning. 

Before  the  close  of  prayers,  every  light  is  extin- 
guished in  the  chandelier  which  hangs  from  the  cen- 
tre of  tlie  chapel,  and  only  one  is  left — that  burns 
night  and  day  before  the  tabernacle  in  the  sanctuary. 
The  sisters  leave  the  chapel  in  the  usual  order,  and 
retire  to  their  cells.  From  nine  o'clock  till  breakfast 
is  over  on  the  following  morning,  absolute  silence  is 
to  be  maintained.  During  this  time  it  is  not  allowed 
to  take  a  drink  of  water.  'No  sister  is  permitted  to 
see  another  after  she  goes  to  her  cell ;  it  would  be  a 
breach  of  the  rule  for  one  sister  to  see  the  head  of  an- 
other uncovered.  While  undressing  for  the  night, 
"aspirations"  are  said  by  many,  the  practice  having 
been  recommended  by  the  Superior  and  the  mistress 
of  novices. 

If  this  narrative  of  a  day's  employment  at  St.  Jo- 


80  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

sepli's — embracing  only  the  more  "  spiritual"  and  de^ 
votional  occupations  of  the  sisters — should  appear  in- 
terminably tedious  to  the  reader  at  a  single  perusal,  I 
beg  him  to  estimate  the  weariness  of  body  and  soul 
that  must  be  endured  by  the  poor  sufferers  of  this  in- 
fliction, re]3eated  from  day  to  day,  from  week  to  week, 
with  scarcely  a  variation  in  the  monotony  of  its  rou^ 
tine. 


duties"  of  the  sisters.  81 


CHAPTEE  XV. 


Such  is  tlie  procedure  of  religions  observances  for 
a  single  day  at  St.  Joseph's.  Some  portions  of  it  are 
of  coui'se  subject  to  deviation  for  the  several  feasts, 
Sundays,  fast-days,  and  other  special  occasions.  From 
this  statement  the  reader  may  have  obtained  a  faint 
conception  of  the  incessant  toils  and  fatigues  thus  im- 
posed. But  he  must  take  into  consideration,  besides 
these  "  spiritual"  exercises,  those  manual  and  menial 
employments  in  which  the  members  of  the  community 
are  daily  engaged,  and  which  are  technically  called  their 
"  duties."  These  consist  chiefly  of  those  labors  that 
are  generally  performed  by  servants  in  a  private  fam- 
ily, but  which,  in  so  large  an  establishment,  must  nec- 
essarily be  far  more  numerous  and  burdensome. 

An  "officer,"  as  she  is  designated,  superintends  each 
separate  department  of  the  domestic  economy,  and  ex- 
ercises control  over  those  employed  in  her  service,  by 
whom  she  must  be  implicitly  obeyed,  without  murmur 
or  hesitation.  The  kitchen,  laundry,  infirmary,  re- 
fectory, meat-house,  clothes-room,  dormitories,  scul- 
lery, etc.,  etc.,  have  each  its  overseer,  and  those  ap- 
pointed to  perform  the  appropriate  duties.  But  besides 
these  there  are  the  teachers  in  the  academy ;  the  "  an- 
D2 


82  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

gels,"  as  tliey  are  styled,  who  watcli  over  the  boarders, 
and  sleep  in  their  dormitories  ;  and  the  sacristan,  who 
has  charge  of  the  sacristy,  church,  chapels,  and  con- 
fessionals. There  is  also  a  sister  to  wait  on  the  Su- 
perior, and  who  is,  in  fact,  her  servant ;  one  to  keep 
the  priest's  room  in  order ;  and  another — a  young  and 
handsome  sister  being  always  selected  for  this  duty — 
to  carry  his  meals  to  him.  Each  has  her  allotted  task, 
which  must  be  performed  faithfully  and  strictly,  and 
she  must  be  ready  at  a  moment's  warning  to  assume 
a  new  duty,  or  leave  her  work  when  ordered.  All  the 
work  of  the  academy  and  institution  is  performed  by 
the  members  of  the  community,  and  between  these  oc- 
cupations and  those  exercises  already  described,  not  a 
minute  is  lost,  from  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  till 
nine  at  night. 

Some  estimate  of  the  amount  of  individual  labor  ac- 
complished by  the  sisterhood  may  be  drawn  from  a 
relation  of  my  own  experience.  For  the  first  three 
weeks  after  entering  the  institution,  I  was  employed  in 
the  refectory,  where,  commencing  after  breakfast,  the 
following  is  an  account  of  a  day's  duties :  Brought  in 
two  tubs  of  water ;  washed  the  cups,  bowls,  knives,  and 
forks ;  cleared  off  five  long  tables,  and  carried  the 
plates,  about  one  hundred  in  number,  to  the  kitchen 
to  be  washed ;  swept,  and  sometimes  scoured  and 
scrubbed  the  floor  of  the  refectory ;  brought  back  the 
plates,  and  arranged  the  tables  for  dinner ;  cleaned  the 
knives  and  forks ;  kept  up  a  fire  in  the  stove,  etc. 
After  dinner,  performed  the  same  work,  and  prepared 
the  tables  for  supper.  After  supper,  washed  and 
cleaned  up  every  thing  again,  and  prepared  for  break- 


83 

fast.  At  the  end  of  three  weeks  I  was  transferred  to 
the  academy,  where  I  taught  music  and  French,  and 
worked  in  the  refectory  at  night.  jMy  occupations  then 
were  varied.  Sometimes  I  cooked  and  washed,  at 
other  times  I  was  employed  in  the  infirmary,  waiting 
on  the  sick  and  making  their  beds,  administering  their 
medicines,  and  assisting  in  cupping,  blistering,  and 
other  hospital  duties. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that,  besides  the  faithful 
execution  of  these  requirements,  the  sisters  are  com- 
pelled to  be  punctual  at  all  the  devotional  exercises 
already  described. 

The  observance  of  these  duties  and  devotions  com- 
prehends an  aggregate  of  endurance  and  suffering  such 
as  will  speedily  exhaust  the  strength  and  destroy  the 
tone  of  the  most  sturdy  constitution.  Numbers  every 
day  are  so  utterly  overcome,  that  when  the  hour  of 
repose  arrives,  it  is  with  difficulty  that  they  reach  their 
cells  ere  they  fall  fainting  to  the  floor.  What  a  mock- 
cry  of  religion,  as  well  as  of  mere  humanity,  to  sum- 
mon so  often  for  acts  of  worship  these  poor  creatures, 
whose  limbs  are  writhing  with  pain,  and  whose  frames 
are  worn  out  with  excess  of  weariness,  especially  when 
so  many  of  those  exercises  are  performed  in  postures 
more  fatiguing  than  even  the  servile  duties  by  which 
they  have  been  preceded!  How  can  the  mind  and 
heart  be  profitably  engaged  in  circumstances  such  as 
these  ? 

To  illustrate  the  facts  here  stated,  I  may  allude -to 
the  case  of  a  novice  who  fled  from  the  institution,  not- 
withstanding the  Mother  Superior's  assertion  that  all 
are  at  liberty  to  depart  at  will,  and  took  refuge  with  a 


84  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

Presbyterian  clergyman  in  Emmettsburg.  She  had 
not  abjured  the  Catholic  faith,  but  made  her  escape  on 
account  of  her  inability  to  sustain  the  grievous  burden 
of  labor  imposed  upon  her.  "  She  had  supposed,"  she 
said,  "that  the  institution  was  a  centre  of  holy  influ- 
ences, and  that  nowhere  else  could  she  serve  her 
Maker  with  such  entire  self-consecration,  but  she  found 
nothing  like  religion  there."  So  deep  was  her  disgust 
with  her  experience  of  the  life  in  the  sisterhood,  that 
she  declared,  "If  to  continue  a  '  Sister  of  Charity' 
would  certainly  take  her  to  heaven,  she  would  not  con- 
sent to  remain."  It  must  have  been  the  recollection 
of  great  suffering  that  elicited  such  language.  The 
case  of  this  novice  will  be  referred  to  again,  when  I 
come  to  speak  of  the  Mother  Superior's  letter. 


THE  "  CONFEKENCE."  85 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    "CONFERENCE." 

The  order  of  observances  here  described  is  varied 
on  Wednesday  by  a  convocation  of  the  sisters  called 
the  "Conference,"  or  "Chapter."  As  already  men- 
tioned, postulants  are  not  permitted  on  that  day  to  re- 
main in  the  novitiate  during  the  silence-hour,  v/hich  is 
from  two  to  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  They  are 
then  sent  to  the  kitchen  or  elsewhere,  to  be  out  of  the 
way,  while  the  sisters  assemble  in  the  novitiate  and 
community-room. 

It  was  after  my  "  retreat"  that  I  learned  the  nature 
of  the  performances  on  this  occasion.  The  room  hav- 
ing been  darkened  by  closing  the  window-shutters 
tightly,  so  that  the  only  light  admitted  came  through 
the  upper  part  of  the  Gothic  arches  of  the  windows, 
the  sisters  then  assembled,  and  took  their  places  ar- 
ranged round  the  room,  the  mistress  of  novices  being 
seated  at  a  table  at  one  end  near  the  door.  At  first, 
all  kneel,  and  say  certain  prayers,  during  which  the 
"class  sisters,"  or  teachers  in  the  academy — who, 
upon  hearing  the  bell,  repair  tliither  from  their  duties 
— noiselessly  enter,  and  kneel  near  the  door  until  the 
prayers  are  ended.  Every  sister  not  so  engaged  must 
be  in  the  room  before  the  two  o'clock  bell  rings.     Af- 


86  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ter  prayers,  all  seat  themselves  and  take  tlieir  work, 
except  four  or  five  of  the  "  cornet  sisters,"  or  sisters 
of  the  "  holy  habit,"  nearest  to  the  altar  of  St.  Joseph, 
which  is  at  one  end  of  the  room.  These  continue 
kneeling  toward  the  altar,  each  behind  the  other  in  a 
row,  and  in  front  of  her  own  seat.  The  first  sister  in 
this  row,  after  kissing  her  crucifix  and  crossing  her- 
self, places  the  palms  of  her  hands  together  in  front  of 
her  breast,  and  then  "  makes  her  accusation,"  which 
she  does  in  the  following  form : 

"My  God,  I  most  humbly  ask  thy  pardon,  and  to 
you,  my  sister,  I  accuse  myself  of  my  faults.  I  ac- 
cuse myself  of  liaving  walked  too  heavily,  or  of  mak- 
ing too  much  noise  in  shutting  the  doors ;  of  giving 
my  eyes  too  much  liberty  ;  of  not  accepting  advice  in 
a  spirit  of  humility  ;  of  not  being  '  recollected,'  "  etc., 
etc.  After  specifying  some  such  offenses,  the  accusa- 
tion concludes  thus  :  "For  these  faults,  and  many  oth- 
ers of  which  I  am  guilty,  I  most  humbly  ask  pardon 
of  God,  and  beg  you,  my  sister,  that  you  will  please 
to  give  me  penance."  Sometimes  it  is  added,  "I  ask 
for  spiritual  charity  in  the  next  conference."  Having 
said  thus,  the  sister,  before  leaving  the  novitiate,  will 
take  an  opportunity  to  whisper  in  the  ear  of  a  sister 
whom  she  may  select,  "I  ask  of  you  spiritual  charity 
in  the  next  conference." 

The  first  sister,  having  finished  her  accusation,  takes 
her  seat,  and  the  one  immediately  behind  her  com- 
mences. This  continues  until  all  the  five  have  per- 
formed this  duty.  Just  before  the  last  one  has  con- 
cluded, the  next  four  or  five  kneel  in  the  same  man- 
ner, each,  when  her  accusation  is  ended,  resuming  her 


THE  "CONFERENCE."  87 

seat  and  commencing  lier  work.  This  proceeding  lasts 
till  all  have  knelt  and  accused  tliemselves  in  turn. 
Ally  sister  who  has  accused  herself  and  has  asked  for 
"  spiritual  charity"  in  the  previous  chapter,  will  say 
after  her  accusation,  "  I  asked  for  spiritual  charity  in 
the  last  conference."  Thereupon  at  once  the  sister 
whom  she  then  notified  will  kneel  and  say,  "In  a 
spirit  of  humility  and  charity  I  accuse  my  sister  of 
speaking  in  time  of  silence,"  or  any  other  fault  she 
may  remember  or  please  to  imagine.  She  ends  with 
these  words  :  "  I  know  myself  to  be  guilty  of  these 
faults  and  many  others,  for  which  I  most  humbly  ask 
pardon  of  God, "  and  then  resumes  her  seat.  Penances, 
as  punishments,  are  then  inflicted  by  the  mistress  of 
novices. 

Frequently  it  will  happen  that  in  making  these  ac- 
cusations the  sisters  will  speak  in  too  low  a  tone.  The 
mistress  of  novices  will  then  give  three  loud  raps,  and 
say,  "What  sister  is  that  speaking?"  To  which  the 
sister  must  reply,  giving  her  name.  She  is  then 
awarded  some  penance,  such  as  kissing  the  floor  two 
or  three  times,  as  a  punishment,  and  is  commanded  to 
speak  louder.  The  sisters  will  often  tremble  with  agi- 
tation during  this  ceremonial.  The  conscience  is  at 
work ;  and  fears  lest  they  should  commit  some  error 
in  the  repetition  of  the  formula,  for  which  they  would 
inevitably  be  punished,  keep  them  in  constant  anxi- 
ety and  alarm ;  more  especially  is  this  the  case  with 
those  young  novices  who  have  heard  the  expressions 
but  a  few  times,  and  are  allowed  no  other  way  of  learn- 
ing them  than  by  hearing  the  words  repeated  on  these 
occasions. 


88 

The  mistress  of  novices,  before  the  commencement 
of  this  cruel  process,  opens  a  little  black  book,  and 
reads  a  collection  of  reports  made  to  her  by  her  spies, 
accusing  such  of  the  sisters  as  they  may  choose  to  im- 
pugn of  whatever  transgressions  they  are  pleased  to 
ascribe  to  them  ;  and  the  poor  novices,  who,  perhaps, 
have  never  dreamed  of  the  offenses  which  they  thus 
find  alleged  against  them,  are  not  allowed  to  defend 
themselves,  or  make  a  word  of  reply,  but  must  receive, 
silently  and  submissively,  whatever  reproof  or  punish- 
ment may  be  imposed.  The  opening  of  this  little 
book  spreads  alarm  and  terror  throughout  the  novitiate. 

After  the  accusations,  a  small  book  is  taken  from 
a  closet,  which  is  read  during  the  remainder  of  the  si- 
lence-hour. This  book  contains  the  rules  of  the  house. 
At  three  o'clock  the  great  bell  rings  rapidly  and  loud, 
in  remembrance  of  our  Lord,  who  expired  at  that  hour 
upon  the  cross,  and  every  sister  instantly  falls  upon 
her  knees,  each  holding  in  her  hand  her  crucifix,  gaz- 
ing intently  upon  it,  and  kissing  it  reverently  and  pas- 
sionately ;  the  "  adoration"  prayer  is  then  said,  and 
this  closes  the  chapter.  Conferences  are  held  in  the 
community-room  also,  but  I  do  not  know  the  forms 
used  there,  nor  am  I  certain  that  the  same  day  is  se- 
lected for  the  purpose. 


CONSUMPTION   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.  89 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

CONSUMPTION   AT    ST.  JOSEPH'S. 

It  can  scarcely  be  matter  of  surprise  tliat,  with  so 
much  labor  and  so  little  rest,  the  most  robust  health, 
subjected  to  the  life  of  a  convent,  should  be  shattered, 
and  the  strongest  constitution  undermined ;  still  less 
will  it  be  wondered  at  that  you.ng  girls  of  weak  and 
delicate  frames  should  speedily  prove  martyrs  to  a  sys- 
tem so  exacting.     Even  at  night,  when  the  wearied 
sister,  on  the  hard  couch  of  her  narrow  cell,  woos 
the  "  sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep,"  to  recruit  her  ener- 
gies for  another  day  of  toil,  it  is  often  impossible  to 
obtain  repose.     Many  a  time  have  I  been  awakened 
in  the  depth  of  night  by  shrieks  and  screams  that 
made  my  very  blood  run  cold.     Often  have  I  heard 
groans  and  exclamations  of  distress,  and  then,  in  sweet 
and  tremulous  tones,  the  warbling  of  some  poor,  heart- 
broken sister,  who,  perhaps,  in  dreams  revisited  the 
home  of  her  childhood,  but  for  whom  the  interests  of 
real  life  were  buried  in  darkness  forever.     Again  would 
the  silence  be  disturbed  by  the  sIoav  and  measured 
footfall  of  a  priest,  summoned,  perhaps,  to  administer 
the  holy  viaticum  to  some  dying  sister  in  the  infirm- 
ary. 

One  night  I  was  unusually  alarmed  by  a  loud  and 


90  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

prolonged  shriek,  proceeding  from  a  neigliTboring  part 
of  the  dormitory,  and  a  heavy  fall  as  of  a  body  strik- 
ing the  ground.  Immediately  after  I  heard  a  person 
running  past  my  cell  toward  the  passage  beyond.  The 
sounds  frightened  me  so  much  that  I  was  unable  to 
close  my  eyes  during  the  remainder  of  the  night.  The 
following  evening,  during  "recreation,"  a  young  sister 
who  was  seated  next  to  me  asked  me  if  she  could 
speak  without  being  reported.  I  looked  at  her  with 
surprise ;  but,  seeing  that  she  was  pale  and  agitated, 
I  told  her,  although  against  the  rules,  that  she  might 
speak  without  reserve,  and  tell  me  the  cause  of  her 
distress,  promising  that  I  would  not  divulge  it,  but 
would  serve  her  if  in  my  power.  She  then  informed 
me  that  she  had  been  very  much  alarmed  the  night 
before,  and  asked  if  I  had  heard  a  strange  noise  and 
a  loud  shriek.  Upon  my  assent,  she  stated  that  about 
midnight  she  had  been  awakened  by  a  heavy  step 
around  the  bed,  and  was  so  frightened  that  she  could 
scarcely  breathe.  As  soon  as  the  sound  had  ceased, 
she  felt  something  heavy  at  the  foot  of  her  bed,  when 
she  uttered  a  scream,  and  the  person,  or  fiend,  for  she 
knew  not  which,  rolled  heavily  to  the  floor,  and,  utter- 
ing a  wild,  demoniacal  yell,  fled  rapidly  down  the  clois- 
ter. So  much  had  these  occurrences  terrified  her,  that 
she  dreaded  retiring  to  her  cell,  and  was  in  a  constant 
state  of  agitation  and  fear. 

The  very  next  night  I  heard  a  shriek,  if  possible, 
louder  than  the  previous  one.  The  following  day  I 
learned  from  a  young  sister  that  some  one,  at  midnight, 
had  walked  round  her  bed  several  times,  after  which 
she  had  felt  a  pair  of  hands  seize  her  by  the  throat, 


CONSUMPTION   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.  91 

nearly  stifling  her  for  a  moment,  whereupon  she  utter- 
ed the  scream  I  had  heard. 

]\Iany  an  hour  have  I  remained  awake,  revolving  in 
my  mind  occurrences  like  these,  for  which  I  vainly  en- 
deavored to  account.  But  more  distressing  than  these 
frightful  sounds  was  one  far  more  common :  the  pain- 
ful cough  of  the  consumptive,  which  from  more  than 
one  cell  would  be  heard,  announcing  the  presence  of 
that  fearful  disease,  elsewhere  so  dreaded,  but  here  in- 
vited, and  rendered  almost  inevitable  by  the  course  of 
life  prescribed.  I  was  told,  and  it  was  generally  taught, 
that  consicmjHion  is  a  j)^i^i'i  of  the  vocation.  Some- 
times I  have  found  it  out  of  the  question  to  obtain  an 
hour's  repose,  in  consequence  cf  the  continual  cough 
of  some  poor  sister,  who,  wearied  with  the  arduous 
duties  imposed  upon  her  during  the  day,  would  reach 
her  cell  with  the  help  of  others,  in  a  few  days  more  to 
be  ordered  to  the  infirmary,  linger  a  little  longer,  re- 
ceive the  last  sacraments,  then  welcome  death  as  a  re- 
lease from  her  sufferings,  and  be  carried  to  the  grave- 
yard near  at  hand. 

One  evening,  while  ascending  the  steps  to  my  cell, 
I  noticed  a  sister  leaning  against  the  wall  as  if  for  sup- 
port, and  breathing  heavily.  I  imagined  her  unable  to 
reach  her  cell,  but  could  not  speak,  as  it  was  silence- 
hour.  Unwilling  to  pass  her  without  notice,  I  offered 
my  arm,  which  she  accepted,  and  I  assisted  her  to  her 
cell.  The  following  day  she  was  sent  to  the  infirmary, 
and  soon  after  died. 

Numbers  die  at  the  institution  every  year.  I  know 
of  fourteen  who  died  during  the  ten  months  of  my  stay 
in  the  community,  and  I  saw  at  least  twenty  recent 


92  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

graves  before  I  left.  They  are  buried  in  regular  rows. 
There  are  four  infirmaries,  in  one  of  which  there  are 
several  insane  sisters.  There  is  one  for  the  old  and 
infirm,  who  are  totally  unable  to  go  about  the  institu- 
tion, and  who  sometimes,  though  with  great  difficulty, 
reach  the  choir,  which  is  very  near,  where  they  per- 
form their  devotions.  The  large  infirmary  connected 
with  the  house,  though  a  separate  building,  is  filled 
with  the  sick  and  the  dying.  It  is  divided  into  two 
departments :  the  lower,  on  the  first  floor,  being  occu- 
pied by  the  young  sisters  or  novices  ;  the  upper,  in 
the  second  story,  by  the  vovr  or  professed  sisters.  In 
this  department  there  is  a  small  chapel,  where  confes- 
sions are  made  by  those  who  are  unable  to  go  to  church 
or  to  any  of  the  confessionals. 

The  lower  infirmary  is  a  large  room,  on  each  side 
of  which  is  a  row  of  small  curtained  bedsteads,  about 
seven  in  number.  At  the  end  of  a  passage  leading- 
past  the  entrance  to  this  room,  there  is  a  very  small 
passage  at  right  angles,  connecting  with  a  room  where 
those  who  die  in  this  infirmary  are  laid  out.  At  the 
other  end  of  the  infirmary  is  a  passage,  on  one  side 
of  which  there  are  two  doors,  one  leading  to  the  refec- 
tory, and  the  other  to  the  kitchen.  On  the  opposite 
side  is  a  store-room,  where  provisions  are  kept  in  small 
quantities  for  those  who  occupy  the  infirmary.  In 
this  passage  a  flight  of  stairs  leads  to  tlie  upper  in- 
firmary. At  the  top  of  these  stairs,  on  the  right,  there 
is  a  sitting  or  work  room  for  those  sisters  who,  though 
ill,  are  permitted  to  walk  about  the  upper  infirmary — 
that  is,  to  go  from  their  apartments  to  the  chapel, 
work-room,  and  medicine-room.     JMany  of  the  profess- 


CONSUMPTION    AT    8T.  JOSEPH'S.  93 

ed  sisters  are  allowed  to  take  their  meals  in  the  in- 
firmary on  account  of  loss  of  appetite  and  impaired 
health,  caused  by  the  Avant  of  better  fare. 

The  rules  of  the  infirmary  are  framed  and  hung  up 
in  the  work-room.  Whoever  transgresses  these  rules 
is  reported  by  the  "  infirmarian,"  her  assistant,  and 
others.      These  rules  are  substantially  as  follows : 

No  sister  is  allowed  to  enter  the  infirmary  without 
permission  from  the  Superior,  or  other  officer  of  the 
community.  When  entered,  she  must  at  once  see  the 
infirmarian,  and  act  according  to  her  directions. 

She  must  ask  for  nothing,  but  receive  wdiatever  is 
given  her  without  a  murmur. 

She  must  observe  strictly  the  community  rules — 
that  is,  must  repeat  her  prayers,  keep  silence,  and  re- 
frain from  speaking  to  any  other  sick  sister  without 
permission. 

When  sent  to  bed,  she  is  not  to  rise  without  per- 
mission, nor  leave  the  infirmary  unless  directed  to  do 
so. 

Those  sisters  who  are  allowed  to  take  their  meals 
in  the  infirmary-refectory  are  not  permitted,  when 
passing  through  the  building,  to  speak  to  a  sister  who 
is  sick,  but  must  walk  with  eyes  cast  down,  and  hands 
folded  across  their  breasts. 


94 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

FIEST   INDICATIONS   OF   DISFAVOE, 

I  HAD  been  in  the  community  about  two  months 
when  a  letter  from  my  family  was  received  by  the  Su- 
perior. It  was  handed  or  sent  by  her  to  the  mistress 
of  novices  for  perusal  in  the  novitiate.  When  the  mis- 
tress of  novices  had  finished  reading  the  letter,  she 
called  me  to  her.  I  instantly  obeyed,  fell  on  my  knees 
before  her,  and  kissed  the  floor.  She  then  told  me 
that  she  had  a  letter  for  me  from  my  family,  and  would 
not  give  it  to  me,  but  would  read  a  few  sentences  of 
it  aloud.  She  did  so,  and  I  was  unable  to  control  my 
emotion,  or  to  restrain  the  tears  that  rushed  to  my 
eyes.  Seeing  me  so  agitated,  she  became  very  angry 
— for  it  is  esteemed  a  step  toward  perfection  to  sup- 
press all  demonstration  of  feeling — and  seizing  me  by 
the  shoulders  while  I  was  kneeling  before  her,  she 
threw  me  violently  backward.  My  head  striking  the 
floor,  I  became  insensible,  and  was  taken,  as  I  after- 
ward learned,  to  the  infirmary,  where  I  was  report- 
ed by  the  mistress  of  novices  as  detained  by  "ill 
health." 

After  leaving  the  infirmary,  I  was  looked  upon  with 
an  inquiring  glance  by  many,  who  would  fain  have 
asked  me  respecting  my  health,  but  neither  they  nor  I 


FIEST   INDICATIONS   OF   DISFAVOK.  95 

durst  utter  a  word  on  the  subject.  It  is  positively  for- 
bidden to  say  any  thing  relative  to  one's  feelings,  or 
to  make  inquiries  about  any  one  who  has  been  sent  to 
the  infirmary.  Should  any  thing  occur  there,  it  is  not 
to  be  spoken  of  in  the  novitiate  or  community-room  ; 
nor  is  any  thing  that  happens  in  those  rooms  to  be 
repeated  in  the  infirmary. 

Sometimes  we  would  miss  a  sister  for  several  days 
together  ;  but  we  did  not  know  where  she  was,  and 
were  not  permitted  to  ask  after  her.  It  is  forbidden  to 
notice  when  any  person  comes  or  goes,  or  to  inquire 
why  such  a  sister  is  removed  from  one  place  to  anoth- 
er ;  and  before  we  would  have  farther  tidings,  she 
might  be  dying  or  dead  in  the  infirmary  without  our 
knowledge. 

But  it  was  not  long  before  other  occurrences  made 
me  conscious  of  the  fact  that  I  had  incurred  the  dis- 
pleasure of  my  superiors,  and  that  I  must  expect  the 
strictest  surveillance  and  punishment  for  the  least 
omission  of  duty  or  infraction  of  the  rules.  Uninten- 
tional errors,  such  as  in  others  would  be  overlooked, 
were  sure  to  be  visited  upon  me  ;  and  every  word  I 
uttered  was  duly  reported  by  spies  set  to  watch  my 
conduct.  One  evening,  exhausted  by  the  labor  under- 
gone during  the  day,  as  I  was  carrying  a  tub  of  water 
from  the  kitchen  to  the  refectory,  I  remarked  to  a  sis- 
ter, "How  very  hard  we  have  to  work!"  This  was, 
of  course,  reported  to  the  Superior.  While  at  break- 
fast on  the  following  morning,  I  was  sent  for  to  come 
to  her  room.  I  went,  and  found  her  much  displeased. 
She  threatened  me  with  condign  punishment  in  case 
another  word  of  complaint  were  spoken  relative  to  the 


96  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


igaiii 


labor  imposed.  She  said  that  "if  I  should  ever  i 
complain,  I  would  get  myself  into  trouble."  I  left  her 
room  with  the  determination  to  be  silent  in  future.  At 
this  period  I  did  not  know  the  rules,  having  not  yet 
made  my  retreat.  I  was  often  rebuked,  and  more 
than  once  threatened  with  arraignment  before  the 
"  council"  by  the  sister  who  had  charge  of  the  refec- 
tory. 

One  night,  having  been  sent  by  the  mistress  of 
novices  to  the  iniirmary  on  account  of  some  indisposi- 
tion during  the  day,  I  asked  permission  of  the  "  in- 
firmarian"  to  retire  before  night-prayers,  being  unfit 
for  the  fatigue  of  kneeling  during  such  a  length  of  time. 
She  answered,  "  No  ;  I  had  come  thither  to  suffer 
and  do  penance,"  and  might  return  to  the  infirmary 
after  prayers.  I  did  so,  but  was  told  that  I  must  rise 
from  my  bed  at  the  ringing  of  the  first  bell — at  four 
in  the  morning — and  must  attend  morning-prayers  and 
the  first  mass.  This  infirmarian  was  ere  long,  how- 
ev(ir,  succeeded  by  a  new  one,  to  the  great  satisfaction 
of  the  young  novices,  as  she  did  not  enforce  the  rules 
with  the  strictness  of  her  predecessor. 

One  evening,  about  this  time,  after  duties,  having 
been  sent  to  the  infirmary  to  watch  by  the  bedside 
of  a  sister  who  was  very  ill,  I  noticed  in  a  bed  near  by 
a  young  sister  apparently  dying  of  consumption.  She 
was  beautiful ;  her  large  dark  eyes  shone  with  un- 
earthly brilliancy ;  her  face  was  very  pale,  save  one 
bright  spot  on  each  cheek,  that  spoke  plainly  of  her 
approaching  doom.  Once  or  twice  I  noticed  that  she 
sighed  lieavily ;  and,  watching  her  more  closely,  I  dis- 
covered the  tears  trickling   down  her  cheeks.      My 


FIRST    INDICATIONS    OF    DISFAVOR.  97 

sympathy  was  roused,  and,  crossing  the  room  to  her 
bedside,  I  inquired  how  long  she  had  been  in  the  in- 
'iirmary,  and  whether  she  were  improving.  She  had 
been  there,  she  said,  all  winter,  and  v\".s  no  better. 
Raising  her  hand,  which  was  covered  with  a  handker- 
chief, she  told  me  that  she  was  in  great  suffering.  I 
saw  that  the  hand  had  been  opened,  as  by  a  surgical 
operation.  She  did  not  know  why  it  had  been  done, 
and  felt  sure  that  she  would  lose  it.  A  few  days  later 
she  was  sent  aAvay  from  the  institution,  nor  did  I  learn 
for  some  months  after  where  she  was.  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  speak  again  of  this  sister  in  another  place. 

The  Lady  Superior,  mistress  of  novices,  and  infirm- 
arian  had,  particularly  the  two  latter,  since  the  recep- 
tion of  the  letter  from  my  home,  manifested  toward 
me  a  severity  of  character  which  alarmed  me.  The 
Lady  Superior,  even  in  her  rebukes,  would  usually 
close  by  some  mild  and  persuasive  remark,  vdiich  went 
far  to  alleviate  my  wounded  pride  and  lacerated  feel- 
ings. I  had  no  reason  to  believe  that  she  had  any 
hostile  feeling  toward  me,  except  on  account  of  my  ev- 
ident and  still  strong  attachment  to  my  family. 

The  treatment  I  received,  however,  produced  a  great 
change  in  my  outward  conduct.  Fear,  a  sense  of  duty, 
and  the  cherished  hope  of  obtaining  permission  to  de- 
part, all  combined  to  induce  me,  at  least  apparently, 
to  submit  with  perfect  patience  and  resignation  to  the 
will  and  wishes  of  my  superiors ;  and  although  my 
heart  ached  for  tliat  lovely  and  suffering  sister,  and 
my  curiosity  was  aroused  to  the  utmost  to  know  more 
of  her,  yet  I  dared  not  prolong  the  interview  at  this 
time  for  fear  of  the  infirm arian. 
E 


98  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  ILLUSION  AND  THE  EEALITY. 

Having  made  my  retreat  as  a  postulant,  wlieTi,  for 
the  first  time,  I  learned  and  fully  comprehended  the 
nature  of  the  sacrifice  demanded  of  me,  I  saw  that 
the  chief  requirement  was  an  abject  submission  to  the 
will  and  commands  of  the  superiors  in  every  respect ; 
that  then:  dictates  must  be  regarded  with  the  same 
reverence  as  the  voice  of  God  himself ;  that  the  high- 
est holiness  was  made  to  consist  in  an  entire  surren- 
der to  their  control — physically,  spiritually,  and  mor- 
ally, as  to  the  Almighty  ;  that  this  obedience  required 
a  renunciation  of  father,  mother,  sister,  and  brother  ;  in 
whose  stead  the  Father  and  Mother  Superiors  of  the 
institution,  the  members  of  the  community,  and  the 
priest,  must  thenceforth  be  regarded  with  filial  and 
sisterly  devotion;  that  every  afiection  of  the  heart 
must  be  stifled,  every  earthly  tie  broken,  and  an  eter- 
nal farewell  bidden  to  home,  friends,  and  country. 

As  these  considerations  crowded  upon  my  mind,  I 
became  terrified  at  the  prospect.  I  determined  to 
write  home  and  declare  that  my  resolution  was  alter- 
ed, and  that  I  no  longer  desired  to  follow  the  life  of  a 
Sister  of  Charity. 

It  did  not  occur  to  me  for  a  moment  that  any  obsta- 


THE    ILLUSION   AND   THE   EEALITY.  99 

cle  would  be  interposed  to  prevent  my  withdrawal  from 
the  community.  I  had  been  told  that  this  was  not  a 
"  close  convent ;"  and  even  from  such  it  i?>  publicly  de- 
clared that  a  novice  is  at  liberty  to  depart  at  any  time 
before  assuming  the  black  veil.  I  was  still  attached 
to  the  Roman  Catholic  faith,  but  I  found  it  impossible 
to  reconcile  myself  to  the  idea  of  subjecting  my  will 
and  affections  to  the  slavery  enforced  by  the  vows  of 
the  society.  I  was  self-convinced  that  my  "  vocation" 
for  such  a  life  was  a  figment  of  the  imagination,  and 
that  my  spiritual  welfare  Vv^ould  not  be  promoted  by  a 
forced  obedience  to  rules  abhorrent  to  my  nature. 
But,  alas  I  I  was  soon  made  to  feel  that  already  the 
chains  of  a  cruel  servitude  had  bound  me  hand  and 
foot ;  that  already  I  was  under  the  full  control  of  a 
heaj'tless  organization,  whose  only  motives  of  action 
were  its  own  aggrandizement,  and  a  base  subserviency 
to  the  ambition  of  an  unscrupulous  priesthood. 

In  accordance  with  the  resolution  thus  formed,  a 
few  days  before  the  time  appointed  for  my  reception 
into  the  sisterhood,  I  wrote  to  my  father  announcing 
my  intention  to  withdraw  from  the  institution  and  re- 
turn home.  This  letter,  as  is  customary,  was  read  by 
the  mistress  of  novices,  and  afterward  submitted  to  the 
Mother  Superior.  I  was  soon  summoned  to  her  pres- 
ence, where,  on  my  knees,  I  was  asked,  sternly,  why  I 
had  perpetrated  such  a  piece  of  folly.  I  told  her,  in 
brief  and  respectful  terms,  of  the  change  in  my  views, 
and  of  my  desire  to  return  home. 

No  sympathizing  reply,  nor  even  a  mild  dissuasion, 
followed  this  statement ;  but,  to  my  astonishment,  the 
Mother  Superior,  tearing  the  letter  to  pieces  and  throw- 


100  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ing  the  fragments  into  a  stove  near  by,  harshly  an- 
swered that,  having  renounced  my  own  will  in  this 
matter,  I  must  persevere  to  the  end  for  the  good  of 
my  soul,  and  God  would  bless  my  determination.  No 
remonstrance  on  my  part  was  listened  to,  but  I  was 
compelled  to  write  another  letter,  at  her  dictation^  de- 
claring my  happiness  in  my  present  condition,  and  my 
entire  contentment  with  it,  and  adding  that  I  would 
accordingly  remain  and  make  my  vows  at  the  institu- 
tion. I  was  completely  cowed,  and  obeyed  in  fear  and 
trembling,  with  the  certainty  that  even  if  I  should  then 
resist,  I  should  be  finally  constrained  by  punishment 
to  obey.  How  trying  the  alternative !  What  more 
painful  and  revolting  to  the  feelings  of  a  daughter  than 
thus  to  be  compelled  to  write  a  lie  to  her  parent — to 
persuade  the  loved  ones  at  home  that  she  was  happy 
and  contented,  when  her  heart  was  torn  with  anguish, 
and  when  the  first  symptoms  of  despair,  like  a  gather- 
ing cloud,  shut  out  those  bright  anticipations  she  had 
been  forming  of  a  speedy  reunion  with  the  family  cir- 
cle. I  retired  from  the  interview  with  sensations  that 
no  language  can  express,  and  such  as  I  trust  never  to 
experience  again.  That  night  was  spent  in  silent 
tears  and  bitter  thoughts. 

•  After  this  rebuff,  a  settled  feeling  of  despondency 
took  possession  of  my  mind,  though  I  was  constrain- 
ed, through  fear  of  punishment,  to  avoid  a  betrayal  of 
my  sentiments.  My  highly-wrought  expectations  had 
vanished;  my  prospects  of  happiness  were  scattered 
to  the  winds.  At  this  time,  too,  my  faith  in  popery 
received  a  shock;  my  eyes  were  partially  opened  to 
the  rashness  of  forsaking  the  church  of  my  fathers, 


THE    ILLUSION   AND   THE    KEALITY.  101 

and  attaching  myself  to  a  system  whose  crooked  poli- 
cy was  now  in  process  of  development  "before  me.  An 
honest  self-examination,  serious  reflection,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  events  that  followed  this  first  display  of  in- 
trigue and  deception,  completely  uprooted  every  ves- 
tige of  my  previous  preferences,  and  enabled  me  both 
to  appreciate  my  own  folly  and  to  perceive  the  distort- 
ed lineaments  concealed  under  the  attractive  mask  that 
h'ad  allured  me.  If  I  have  suffered — and  God  only 
knows  how  poignantly — from  the  injustice  and  malev- 
olence of  my  oppressors,  still  am  I  deeply  grateful  that 
these  sorrows  should  have  been  the  means  of  awaken- 
ing me  to  a  sense  of  my  error,  and  of  disclosing  the 
truth  in  its  purity  to  my  perception. 

All  this,  however,  did  not  take  place  at  once ;  and 
though,  as  I  have  said,  my  enthusiastic  anticipations 
disappeared,  and  a  thick  cloud  overspread  my  spirit, 
there  came  as  yet  no  thought  of  rebellion  against  the 
control  of  my  superiors.  I  resolved  to  perform  the 
duties  allotted  me,  and  submit  patiently  to  the  conse- 
quences of  my  own  rashness,  until,  as  I  still  vainly 
hoped,  I  should  be  permitted  to  depart  in  peace.  Not 
the  remotest  idea  of  escape  was  then  cherished,  and  it 
was  not  till  circumstances  occurred,  the  recollection  of 
which  even  now  causes  an  involuntary  shudder,  that  I 
was  rendered  desperate,  and  determined  to  brave  ev- 
ery consequence,  and  even  death  itself,  sooner  than  re- 
main incarcerated  in  a  prison  such  as  this. 


102  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

POOR    JULIA. 

I  HAVE  said  that  disease  and  death  are  "busy  actors 
among  the  inmates  of  St.  Joseph's.  Consumption,  that 
dread  yet  insidious  foe  of  the  young  and  innocent, 
steahng,  Hke  the  tiger  of  the  jungles,  with  noiseless 
step  and  remorseless  purpose  on  its  unsuspecting  vic- 
tim, and  fastening  its  deadly  grasp  ere  the  approach 
be  suspected,  makes  sad  ravages  here.  Worn  out 
with  incessant  toil,  and  with  an  unremitting  observ- 
ance of  the  oppressive  routine  of  useless  forms  ;  sub- 
ject, also,  to  frequent  exposures  to  changes  of  temper- 
ature, not  only  in  passing  over  the  porches  to  and  from 
the  academy,  but  also  from  a  frequent  lack  of  clothing, 
and  sleeping  in  cold  cells  without  sufficient  covering,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  effects  of  sudden  prostration  of  the 
body  upon  the  cold  floor  at  four  o'clock  every  morning, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  the  sisters,  and  especially  those 
of  them  who  are  most  conscientious  in  the  discharge 
of  their  laborious  duties,  should  often  fall  a  prey  to 
this  fell  destroyer. 

But  a  short  time  after  my  admission  to  the  sister- 
hood, I  entered  the  novitiate  one  morning  at  an  earlier 
hour  than  usual,  and  saw  a  sister  sitting  before  a  ta- 
ble with  her  head  resting  upon  her  hands,  and  violently 


POOR  JULIA.  103 

weeping.  No  one  being  present,  I  went  up  to  her,  and 
kneeling  at  her  side,  asked  affectionately  why  she  wept 
so  bitterly.  She  answered  that  the  cause  of  her  sor- 
row could  not  be  revealed ;  that  she  would  fain  speak 
to  me  without  reserve,  but  could  not  do  so ;  and  add- 
ed, "  Sister,  I  was  for  many  years  a  boarder  here,  and 
received  my  education  from  the  sisterhood ;  but  I  did 
not  dream  of  what  a  religious  life  is.  I  can  not  tell 
you  how  I  have  been  deceived.  I  do  not  care  to  live." 
Hearing  steps  in  the  adjoining  corridor,  we  separated 
for  fear  of  being  observed,  and  at  her  request  I  left  by 
a  side  door. 

This  young  lady  was  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy 
Southerner,  who  had  placed  her  at  an  early  age  in  the 
academy,  where  she  had  remained  several  years,  ac- 
quiring all  those  accomplishments  that  were  suited  to 
fit  her  for  the  sphere  of  society  in  which  she  was  ex- 
pecting to  move.  Having  completed  her  studies,  and 
spent  a  couple  of  years  at  home,  she  urged  her  father 
to  permit  her  to  revisit  with  him  the  peaceful  vale 
where  she  had  passed  so  many  happy  days  of  her 
childhood.  As  he  intended  to  take  her  younger  sisters 
to  the  same  institution  for  their  education,  he  consent- 
ed that  this  eldest  daughter  should  accompany  them, 
and  ymake  a  short  stay  at  the  institution.  Her  pur- 
pose in  this  request  was  to  enter  the  sisterhood,  should 
opportunity  present  itself;  but  this  design  was,  of 
course,  concealed  from  her  father,  who  would  have  op- 
posed it  at  once.  Upon  arriving  at  St.  Joseph's,  the 
daughter  spent  much  time  in  the  company  of  those 
who,  no  doubt,  had  persuaded  her  to  embrace  this 
resolution,  and  on  the  eve  of  the  father's  departure  it 


104  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

was  for  tlie  first  time  made  known  to  liim.  Upon 
hearing  of  lier  determination,  he  became  greatly  dis- 
pleased, and  demanded  that  she  should  be  called  to 
speak  with  him,  but  he  was  told  that  he  could  not  see 
her,  as  she  had  gone  over  to  the  house  occupied  by  the 
sisterhood.  There  her  beautiful  long  hair  was  severed 
from  her  head,  and  sent  to  her  father  as  a  parting  gift, 
and  the  white  cap  of  the  postulant  was  put  on.  A 
few  weeks  elapsed ;  her  health  began  to  fail,  and  soon 
after  becoming  a  novice  she  was  so  unwell  as  fre- 
quently to  be  sent  to  the  infirmary.  Often,  Avhen  com- 
ing v/ith.  her  from  our  duties  in  tlie  academy,  have  I 
seen  her  cling  to  the  railing  of  the  porches  for  support, 
while  the  tears  were  streaming  from  her  eyes. 

Though  unable  at  first  to  draw  from  her  the  cause 
of  her  distress,  at  length,  one  evening,  as  I  urged,  her 
to  confide  in  me,  she  took  from  her  pocket  a  tiny  stock- 
ing, and  said,  with  much  emotion,  "This  is  the  only 
relic  I  have  of  my  little  baby  brother."  She  had 
brought  him  with  her  to  the  institution,  as  she  could 
not  bear  the  thought  of  parting  with  him  at  home. 
"It  was  a  bitter  trial,  sister,"  she  continued,  "when 
my  mother  died,  a  year  before  I  entered  the  communi- 
ty ;  but  it  is  harder  yet  for  me  to  give  up  all  hope  of 
ever  seeing  my  little  brother  again." 

A  few  days  after  this  conversation  I  missed  her 
from  the  novitiate,  and  learned  that  she  had  been  sent 
to  the  infirmary.  I  asked  permission  of  the  mistress 
of  novices  to  visit  her,  scarcely  expecting,  however, 
that  I  should  be  allowed  to  do  so.  To  my  surprise, 
leave  was  granted  for  a  short  interview.  I  found  the 
sister  in  bed,  supported  by  pillows,  her  face  flushed 


POOR  JULIA. 


105 


with  fever,  and  evidently  in  deep  distress.  No  one 
being  near  us  at  the  moment,  I  took  her  slender  hand, 
thin  almost  to  transparency,  and  asked  if  she  were 
better.  "No,  my  dear  sister,"  she  replied;  "  I  am 
worse ;  I  am  dying ;"  and  she  inquired  whether  I  too 
were  sick  and  had  come  for  medicine.  '|  Do  not  take 
a  cold,  sister,  for  it  is  always  fatal  lierer 

I  could  remain  but  a  short  time,  and  when  I  left, 
promised  to  seek  a  speedy  opportunity  of  visiting  her 
again.  A  week  or  two  passed,  during  which  I  made 
many  mquiries  concerning  her  health,  but  could  learn 
nothing.  When  again  allowed  to  see  her,  I  was  alarm- 
ed at  the  change  a  few  days  had  wrought.  She  was 
then  but  the  shadow  of  her  former  self,  and  could 
scarcely  speak  above  a  whisper.  Since  her  first  ill- 
ness she  had  refused  to  take  any  nourishment,  or  any 
thing  that  was  thought  calculated  to  afford  rehef. 
She  would  wipe  the  blood  from  her  lips,  and,  smiling 
sadly,  say  to  me,  "  I  shall  soon  be  gone,  and  my  poor 
father  will  not  know  of  my  death." 

One  evening,  as  I  was  passing  tlirough  the  infirma- 
ry, carrying  a  message  from  the  mistress  of  novices, 
she  called  me,  and  though  it  was  a  breach  of  the  rules, 
I  went  to  her  bedside.  She  requested  me  to  hand 
her  her  knitting.  I  refused  to  do  so,  as  she  was  scarce- 
ly able,  from  extreme  debility,  to  raise  her  hands.  Said 
she,  "  Sister,  did  I  say  my  work?  mine?  What  is 
mine  ?"  Then  making  an  effort  to  rise  from  her  bed, 
she  fell  back  fainting  on  her  pillow.  When  conscious- 
ness returned,  she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  crying, 
"  My  poor  father !  my  mother !" 

She  was  ill  two  months,  during  which  time  she  did 
E  2 


106  MISS  buis'kley's  book. 

not  rise  from  her  bed.  She  would  often  say  to  the 
infirmarian,  "  Sister,  what  is  the  matter  with  me  ? 
Please  to  tell  me."  The  evening  of  her  death  she  had 
several  convulsions,  and  after  recovering,  asked  where 
she  had  been.  She  then  said  to  one  of  the  officers  at 
her  bedside  that  she  had  seen  her  mother,  who  had 
come  for  her,  and  she  could  stay  no  longer.  The  of- 
ficer, supposing  that  she  alluded  to  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior, was  about  to  send  in  haste  for  her.  "No,"  ex- 
claimed the  poor  sister,  "  I  mean  my  own  dear  moth- 
er." The  words  had  scarcely  passed  her  lips  when 
she  expired,  without  having  received  the  last  sacra- 
ment or  made  her  vows. 

She  was  laid  out  in  her  novice's  dress ;  her  beads 
and  crucifix  were  laid  upon  her  breast.  As  usual,  a 
sister  watched  by  the  corpse  until  morning,  when  mass 
was  said  for  the  repose  of  her  soul.  She  was  placed 
in  a  plain  wooden  coffin,  of  dark  color,  and  beautiful 
indeed  was  this  unfortunate  girl  in  death.  A  white 
rose  had  been  laid  upon  her  bosom  by  some  member 
of  the  community,  perhaps  by  the  sister  whom  I  over- 
heard making  the  following  remark,  which  showed  that 
she  at  least  was  not  utterly  devoid  of  feeling:  "Yes," 
she  murmured,  gazing  upon  the  fair  remains,  "she 
came  to  us  a  bud ;  now  she  has  gone,  a  rose  in  perfect 
bloom." 

Her  coffin  we  covered  with  a  black  pall  and  bore  to 
the  chapel,  where,  as  I  have  said,  mass  was  sung  for 
her  repose.  Beside  the  corpse  six  lighted  candles  were 
placed.  The  altar  and  paintings  were  shrouded  in 
mourning.  After  mass,  while  the  chapel  bell  was 
tolling,  six  novices  carried  her  to  the  grave-yard  near 


POOR   JULIA.  107 

by,  and  tlie  community  followed  two  by  two  in  the 
usual  manner.  Tims  tlie  once  admired,  accomplislied, 
and  beloved  Julia  was  committed  to  her  final  rest. 

During  her  iUness,  her  sisters,  who  were  in  the  acad- 
emy, were  permitted  to  see  her  but  once,  a  few  mo- 
ments before  her  death,  when  she  asked  to  see  them; 
nor  were  they  permitted  even  to  write  to  their  father 
of  her  iUness.  He  knew  nothing  of  it  until  subse- 
quent to  her  decease,  but  not  long  after  he  sent  for  his 
two  daughters  from  the  academy.  He  was  a  Roman 
Catholic. 


108  MISS  Buckley's  book. 


CHAPTEE  XXL 

SISTEE     SEEAPHIA. 

As  I  have  stated,  the  novices  at  St.  Joseph's  have 
occasion  frequently  to  remain  at  night  with  those  who 
are  ill.  It  is  also  their  duty  to  carry  the  coffin  of  the 
dead,  and  watch  through  the  night  at  its  side.  This 
they  sometimes  do  quite  alone  in  the  chapel. 

The  former  of  these  offices  I  have  many  a  time  per- 
formed, among  the  sick  and  dying  in  the  infirmary. 
I  was  for  some  time  an  assistant  in  that  department 
of  the  institution,  having  been  put  on  duty  after  a  very 
severe  illness,  and  as  soon  as  I  was  sufficiently  strong 
to  walk  from  one  bed  to  another. 

One  night,  during  that  illness,  hearing  a  strange 
noise  in  a  neighboring  passage,  I  arose,  and  went  to 
the  door  of  the  infirmary.  It  was  dark.  I  walked  on 
a  few  steps,  when  I  fainted,  and  fell  to  the  floor.  I 
know  not  how  long  I  remained  unconscious.  Upon 
my  recovery,  it  was  some  time  before  I  could  find  the 
door,  and  when  I  did  so,  I  ascertained  that  the  lamp, 
which  burns  through  the  night,  hanging  from  the  cen- 
tre of  the  room,  had  gone  out.  It  was  with  difficulty 
that  I  reached  my  bed,  which  I  accomplished  by  feel- 
ing on  the  floor  for  a  register  near  it.     I  remained  ill 


SISTER  SEEAPHIA.  109 

for  many  days,  and  much  of  tlie  time  miconscious  of 
all  that  passed  around  me. 

On  a  bed  opposite  to  mine  lay  a  young  sister,  who 
had  the  consumption,  and  was  pronounced  incurable. 
The  second  winter  after  her  admission  she  had  taken 
a  severe  cold,  which  received  no  attention.  At  length 
she  was  sent  to  the  infirmary,  but  there  found  no  relief. 

When,  after  my  recovery,  I  was  placed  on  duty  in 
the  infirmary,  I  took  particular  care  of  this  sister.  A 
short  time  before  her  death,  she  said  to  me,  as  I  was 
arranging  her  pillows,  "  Sister,  you  have  been  so  very 
kind  to  me,  that  I  wish  to  see  you  after  I  die  ;  and  if 
Almighty  God  will  permit,  I  shall  come  back  to  you, 
and  tell  you  of  the  unknown  world."  I  told  her  that 
I  hoped  she  might  do  so.  I  prepared  her  to  receive 
the  last  sacrament,  arranging  the  table,  and  placing 
upon  it  the  candles  and  crucifix.  She  received  the 
extreme  unction,  made  her  vows,  and  expired. 

The  day  subsequent  to  Sister  Seraphia's  death,  I  re- 
ceived a  message  from  the  mistress  of  novices  direct- 
ing me  to  keep  watch  alone  in  a  small  chapel  on  one 
side  of  the  sanctuary  in  the  church.  Entering  that 
chapel,  I  was  startled  at  the  sight  of  a  coffin  covered 
with  a  black  pall.  At  once  I  imagined  that  it  was 
the  corpse  of  the  young  lady  who  had  died  on  the  pre- 
ceding day.  I  seated  myself  by  the  coffin,  and  in  per- 
fect silence  began  my  lonely  vigil.  My  thoughts 
could  not  but  recur  to  the  circumstances  of  her  de- 
cease— to  her  exclamations  in  the  conscious  approach 
of  death,  when  she  cried  out,  "I  am  going  I  I  am  go- 
ing!" and  called  on  the  names  of  the  saints  to  help 
her  in  that  extremity.     I  remembered  also,  as  I  sat 


liO  MIS8  BUNKLEY's   book. 

keeping  solitary  watch  by  the  side  of  the  dead,  that 
strange  promise  which  she  had  made  me ;  and  my 
mind,  ah'eady  growing  superstitious  under  the  influ- 
ence of  constant  meditation  upon  supernatural  occur- 
rences, was  now  uneasy  at  the  slightest  sound.  I  had 
been  thus  engaged  for  about  an  hour,  when  suddenly 
the  folding  doors  between  the  chapel  and  the  sanctu- 
ary, which  had  been  locked,  burst  violently  open,  with 
so  loud  a  noise  that  I  uttered  a  scream,  and  rushing 
to  the  door,  held  one  side,  while  the  other,  striking 
the  table  as  it  flew  open,  overturned  it,  with  the  can- 
dle and  the  crucifix.  Then,  seizing  both  leaves  of  the 
door,  I  held  them  till  the  sacristan,  who  had  doubt- 
less heard  my  scream,  if  she  did  not  hear  the  noise 
made  by  the  doors,  came  in.  She  asked  me,  in  a 
whisper,  what  was  the  matter.  I  told  her  I  was  great- 
ly alarmed,  but  did  not  explain  the  particulars.  She 
closed  the  doors,  relocked  them,  and  left  me.  I  then 
arranged  the  table  and  crucifix,  relighted  the  candle, 
and  seated  myself  once  more  by  the  side  of  the  corpse. 
I  fully  expected  every  moment  to  sec  her  rise  from  the 
coffin.  As  she  had  promised  to  revisit  me,  now,  I 
thought,  was  the  moment ;  and,  possessed  with  this 
idea,  I  placed  my  hands  across  her  breast,  and  called 
her  several  times  by  name.  I  should  not  have  been 
surprised  if  she  had  answered  me,  nor,  indeed,  at  any 
thing  that  might  have  happened ;  for,  during  my  stay 
in  the  infirmary,  I  witnessed  scenes  and  heard  sounds 
for  which  I  was  unable  to  account.  Soon  another  sis- 
ter came  to  relieve  me ;  and,  as  I  was  about  to  leave, 
I  said  to  her,  "  Should  you  hear  or  see  any  thing, 
don't  be  alarmed,  sister."     She  asked  me  if  I  had  been 


SISTEE  SEEAPHIA.  HI 

frightened ;  I  made  no  reply ;  and  she  then  could  not 
be  persuaded  to  remain.  I  staid  therefore  alone  until 
the  morning,  but  heard  nothing  else  to  disturb  the 
still  repose  of  death. 


.  • 


112  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

MYSTERIOUS    SOUNDS. 

I  HAVE  said  tliat  many  things  occurred  during  my 
stay  at  St.  Joseph's  that  seemed  strange  at  the  time, 
and,  however  easily  to  be  explained  as  machinations 
of  miracle-working  priestcraft,  caused  much  alarm  and 
excitement  among  the  community  where  they  were  en- 
acted. This  will  scarcely  seem  matter  of  surprise 
when  it  is  considered  what  an  atmosphere  of  supersti- 
tion and  what  a  world  of  imaginary  fears  surround  the 
poor  inmates  of  a  convent. 

One  of  the  older  sisters,  having  died,  was  committed 
to  the  grave  with  the  usual  ceremonies,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  community  retired  from  the  spot,  leaving 
the  sexton  to  complete  the  interment.  When  he  had 
commenced  to  fill  up  the  grave  with  earth,  a  loud  and 
distinct  rapping  was  heard  to  proceed  apparently  from 
the  interior  of  the  coffin.  The  sexton  was  surprised, 
but  thought  his  ears  deceived  him,  when,  the  sounds 
continuing,  he  became  greatly  terrified,  dropped  his 
spade,  and  ran  in  haste  for  the  priest.  It  was  only 
after  much  solicitation  that  the  latter  would  consent  to 
accompany  the  sexton  to  the  grave,  not  believing  his 
story  ;  but  finally  he  was  persuaded  to  do  so,  in  order, 
as  he  said,  to  convince  the  frightened  man  of  his  folly. 


MYSTERIOUS    SOUNDS.  113 

On  arriving  at  the  place  of  burial,  the  sounds  Avere  still 
heard,  and,  by  command  of  the  now  apparently  startled 
priest,  the  coffin  was  taken  out  and  opened,  and  the 
cornet  raised  from  the  face  of  the  sleeper  to  see  if  any 
signs  of  life  remained.  But  she  lay  in  the  stillness  of 
death,  and  the  rapping  had  ceased.  The  coffin  being 
again  committed  to  the  grave,  the  sounds  were  re- 
sumed, more  loudly  than  before,  and  then  continued 
to  be  heard,  fainter  and  fainter,  till  smothered  beneath 
the  weight  of  earth,  as  the  priest  hastily  directed  the 
sexton  to  fill  up  the  grave. 

Around  the  walls  of  the  cell  where  this  sister  died, 
knocks  were  repeatedly  heard.  A  sister  who  wa-s  iU, 
and  who  slept  there,  told  me  she  could  not  rest  for  the 
loud  rapping  that  occurred,  and  begged  me  to  get  her 
a  lamp  to  burii  at  night ;  but  lights  are  not  allowed  in 
the  cells  of  the  institution,  and  no  one,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  who  have  special  charge,  is  permitted  to 
possess  a  candle  or  a  match  at  any  time.* 

*  Miracles  have  been  rife  at  the  institution  of  St.  Joseph's.  ''  On 
the  10th  of  June,  1820,"  soon  after  the  death  of  Mother  Seton,  the 
founder  of  the  establishment,  "  one  of  the  sisters,  who  had  been  re- 
duced by  an  accumulation  of  diseases  to  the  very  verge  of  the  grave, 
was  suddenly  restored  to  health,  immediately  after  receiving  the  holy 
communion.  For  thirty-six  days  she  had  not  been  able  to  retain  the 
least  particle  of  food  on  her  stomach  ;  and  whenever  she  attempted  to 
take  any  nourishment,  it  was  ejected  with  such  violent  sufferings  as  to 
create  the  apprehension  of  immediate  death.  The  physicians  having 
exhausted  all  the  resources  of  their  art,  and  the  case  having  been  pro- 
nounced desperate,  she  was  advised  by  Mr.  Dubois  to  make  a  novena, 
or  nine  days'  devotion,  in  honor  of  the  holy  name  of  Jesus,  in  union 
with  Prince  Hohenlohe,  who,  on  a  previous  occasion,  had  announced  that 
on  the  tenth  of  each  month  he  would  pray  for  the  intentions  of  those 
living  out  of  Europe.  On  the  last  day  of  the  novena  she  received  the 
blessed  sacrament  at  the  hands  of  the  Reverend  Superior,  and  all  her 


114  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

GEADES   IN    THE    SISTERHOOD. 

It  is  time  that  I  should  endeavor  to  explain  the 
meaning  of  the  several  terms  that  have  been  here  used 
in  designation  of.  the  several  grades  that  exist  in  the 
sisterhood  at  St^  Joseph's ;  those,  namely,  of  Postu- 
lant^ Novice^  or  Seminary  Sister,  and  Professed  Sis- 
ter, The  explanation  will  exact  of  my  reader  some 
little  patience  and  attention.  I  shall,  however,  make 
it  as  plain  and  brief  as  possible. 

A  Postulant  is  one  on  probation  in  the  communi- 
ty. She  wears  in  general  a  plain  black  dress  with  a 
cape,  and  on  the  head  a  white  cap,  concealing  a  part 
of  her  face.  The  period  of  postulancy  is  seldom  pro- 
tracted beyond  the  space  of  three  months.  It  may  be 
less  than  this,  according  as  the  Superior  shall  determ- 
ine. I  myself  took  the  habit  before  the  expiration  of 
that  period.  The  postulants  are  not  all  retained  in 
the  institution  ;  many  are  sent  away  within  a  few  days 
after  their  arrivaL  But,  though  they  may  be  turned 
off,  they  can  not  leave  of  their  own  accord.  This  de- 
pends upon  the  will  of  the  Superior  alone,  their  own 
will  being  renounced  at  their  entrance. 

morbid  symptoms  instantly  disappeared.  On  the  10th  of  August,  an- 
other case  of  disease,  but  of  a  much  more  aggravated  character,  was 
also  suddenly  cured  by  performing  a  similar  novena  in  union  with 
Prince  Hohenlohe." — Life  of  Mrs.  Seton,  p.  444. 


GRADES    IN    THE   SISTERHOOD.  115 

The  rules  and  regulations  of  the  sisterhood  are  not 
fully  made  known  to  a  postulant  until  the  period  of 
her  retreat.  The  purpose  of  this  retreat,  indeed,  is 
chiefly  to  acquaint  the  postulant  with  the  nature  of 
the  three  vows — those  of  poverty,  chastity,  and  obe- 
dience— and  the  obligation  she  then  assumes  is  ex- 
pressed to  her  in  language  somewhat  as  follows:  "  You 
do  now  bind  yourself  to  keep  forever  these  vows,"  etc. 
No  response  is  required,  but  in  silence,  total,  abject 
silence,  all  is  to  be  listened  to  with  the  most  thor- 
ough acquiescence.  This  retreat  lasts  from  five  to 
eight  days.  The  time  is  spent  in  silent  prayer  and 
meditation,  nor  is  the  postulant  allowed  to  utter  a  sol- 
itary word  during  this  period.  At  its  close  the  "  hab- 
it" is  received.  The  postulant  then  becomes  a  Novice, 
or  "  Seminary  Sister."  Such  she  continues  to  be  un- 
til the  expiration  of  five  years,  when  she  "  takes  the 
vows."  These  vows  I  believe  to  be  none  other  than 
those  communicated  in  the  retreat  of  the  postulancy. 
These  once  assumed,  she  becomes  a  Professed  Sister. 

The  '-''holy  habit ^^^  which  is  worn  by  the  professed 
sisters,  is  given  to  the  novices  whenever  the  Superior 
may  please  to  grant  it.  I  had  been  measured  for  my 
own  shortly  before  my  escape ;  this,  probably,  was 
owing  to  the  fact  of  my  employment  in  the  academy, 
and  my  subordinate  charge  of  the  novices  in  the  no- 
vitiate at  "adoration,"  and  in  the  refectory. 

The  "  novitiate-room'"'  is  occupied  by  the  postulants 
and  novices,  the  former  being  seated  on  benches  in 
the  centre,  and  the  latter  in  seats  along  the  walls, 
facing  the  postulants. 

At  the  termination  of  the  five  years  when  ther "  vows 


116 

are  taken,"  tlic  novice  docs  not  gain  access  to  the  com- 
miinitj-room  among  the  "j^rofessed;"  although  she  is 
then  a  professed  sister,  she  is  still  called  a  novice. 
A  farther  probation  is  required  before  admission  to 
that  room.  Three  years  at  least,  amounting,  witli 
those  already  spent  in  the  novitiate,  to  eight,  and  some- 
times even  to  ten,  must  yet  elapse  before  these  sisters, 
now  called  "novices  professed,"  can  become  occupants 
of  that  higher  sanctuary  called  the  coinmunity-rooin. 

Thus  it  will  be  perceived  that  there  are  in  what  is 
termed  the  novitiate-room  three  classes  of  sisters — pos- 
tulants, novices  not  professed,  and  novices  professed ; 
the  last,  and  some  of  the  second  class,  wearing  the 
holy  habit.  The  term  sister  is  applicable  to  all  the 
grades  in  the  community ;  and  when  we  speak  of  the 
community  generally,  we  mean  the  entire  body  or  sis- 
terhood. 

The  three  to  five  years  that  are  spent  in  the  novi- 
tiate before  admission  to  the  community-room^  besides 
the  five  years  above  mentioned,  constitute,  doubtless, 
a  sort  of  probation,  during  which  it  may  be  ascertained 
whether  the  sister  be  qualified  by  natural  capacities, 
or  by  acquirements  of  education,  for-  the  duties  of  a 
"  sister  of  charity,"  or  whether  she  be  sufficiently  re- 
liable to  be  intrusted  with  the  secrets  of  this  higher 
grade  before  she  can  be  sent  abroad  into  the  world  on 
a  mission.  This  is  particularly  requisite  in  the  case 
of  those  who  are  designed  for  teachers,  and  for  "  sis- 
ter-servants" to  take  charge  of  the  mission  houses,  or 
to  perform  other  duties  that  demand  more  or  less  abil- 
ity. Such  a  probation  is  not  required,  however,  of 
those  sisters  who  are  ignorant  or  of  homely  appear- 


GEADES    IN    THE    SISTERHOOD.  117 

ancc.  These  are  often  sent  out  at  an  earlier  period  to 
fill  subordinate  places,  as  servants  in  mission-houses, 
and  for  other  stations. 

It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  in  the  comiminity-room 
none  are  admitted  as  inmates  until  they  have  spent  at 
least  eight  years  in  the  institution.  This  is  the  rule, 
and  no  exceptions  are,  to  my  knowledge,  allowed. 
There  may  be  other  vows  beyond  those  which  were 
communicated  to  me,  and  much  also  concerning  the 
vows  I  have  named ;  the  latter,  doubtless,  is  the  fact. 
These  vows  are  more  strictly  to  be  kept  by  the  novices 
than  by  the  "professed"  in  the  community-room. 

I  have  noticed  that  each  professed  sister,  as  well 
as  each  of  those  who  intend  to  assume  the  vows,  when 
approaching  the  time  of  that  assumption,  carries  in  her 
pocket  a  small  black  book,  tied  with  black  tape,  which 
is  attached  to  it  at  the  pointed  end  of  a  lappet  of  some 
black  material,  extending  beyond  one  cover,  and  fold- 
ing over  it  like  a  pocket-book.  Should  this  book  fall, 
or  be  left  by  accident  lying  in  any  place,  its  contents 
would  thus  be  concealed  unless  the  tape  were  unfast- 
ened. I  always  supposed,  from  the  care  taken  to  keep 
this  book  out  of  view,  that  it  contained  something  of 
an  improper  nature  relative  to  the  vows  assumed,  a  sup- 
position which  was  engendered  by  reading  in  the  books 
of  the  conferences.  The  sisters  generally  read  this 
book  before  confession. 

I  am  aware  that  after  the  first  five  years  the  sisters 
are  required  to  renev:)  their  vows  yearly,  on  a  certain 
fixed  day,  and  in  words  they  do  make  the  vows  from 
year  to  year,  but  in  heart  they  bind  themselves  for- 
ever.    KX  these  appointed  periods  of  renewal,  the  sis- 


118  MliiS    BUNKLEYS    130UK. 

ters  respond  to  their  vows  in  an  audible  tone  of  voice. 
This  is  done  at  high  mass,  just  before  communion,  and 
with  the  remembrance  that  those  who  perform  the  act 
have  no  longer  any  will  of  their  own.  The  rule  de- 
clares that  they  can  not  leave  the  institution  during 
this  interval  of  renewal,  nor  during  the  course  of  the 
year.  And  the  vows  must  be  thus  renewed  yearly, 
on  the  day  set  apart  for  the  purpose.  Before  entering 
St.  Joseph's,  I  was  told  that  I  could  leave  at  any  mo- 
ment at  my  pleasure.  I  was  assured  that,  not  only 
before  the  expiration  of  the  five  years  of  novitiate,  but 
even  after  that  period,  I  should  only  be  bound  to  re- 
main for  a  year  at  a  time,  being  free  to  renew  my 
vows  at  the  end  of  each  period  or  not,  as  I  might 
choose.     This  I  found  to  be  all  fraud  and  deception. 


COSTUME   OF   THE   SISTEES.  119 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 

COSTUME    OF   THE   SISTEES. 

It  may  be  well  here  to  describe,  in  a  few  words,  the 
costume  of  the  sisterhood,  before  farther  explanations 
respecting  the  vows.  The  dress  of  a  novice  consists 
of  a  black  gown,  a  dark  blue  apron,  with  a  boddice 
covering  part  of  a  small  white  shawl,  falling  gracefully 
over  the  shoulders,  and  not  concealing  the  form.  On 
the  head  is  worn  a  closely-fitting  cap,  made  of  white 
muslin,  covering  the  ears  and  concealing  the  hair, 
which  has  been  cut  short.  Over  this  cap  is  worn  a 
white  "  bonnet,"  the  "  bobs"  of  which  fall  over  the 
shoulders  to  the  waist  behind.  Over  the  "  bonnet"* 
again  is  the  black  "capot,"  a  kind  of  silk  veil  that 
hangs  over  the  shoulders,  extending  nearly  to  the  feet. 
This  dress  is  also  called  the  sister's  habit,  or  the  sem- 
inary dress. 

The  "holy  habit,"  or  dress  worn  by  the  older  sis- 
ters, consists  of  a  gray  cloth  gown,  an  apron  of  the 
same  material,  loose  hanging  sleeves,  and  beneath  it 
a  white  linen  sleeve  that  fastens  around  the  wrist. 
Over  this  is  drawn  in  winter  a  close  worsted  sleeve. 
Around  the  neck  is  worn  a  broad  linen  collar,  falling 
nearly  to  the  waist  in  front,  where  the  ends  overlap 
each  other  slightly.     The  head  is  shaved  close,  and  is 

*  Pronounced  bonne. 


120  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

covered  with  a  closely-fitting  cap  called  the  toiiquoir. 
Over  this  is  worn  the  "  cornet,"  which  is  a  broad  piece 
of  linen,  fashioned  into  a  species  of  bonnet,  and  drawn 
to  a  point  above  the  face  ;  it  projects  in  front  over  the 
forehead  about  six  inches.  The  sides,  or  "wings," 
droop  to  the  shoulders,  but  do  not  touch  them.  The 
sisters  often  say,  "  These  are  the  wings  that  will  carry 
us  to  heaven." 

Large  heavy  beads,  with  a  crucifix  attached,  are 
worn  at  the  left  side,  and  constitute  a  part  of  the  dress. 
These  are  to  be  distinguished  from  the  chaplet  beads,* 
which,  when  not  carried  in  the  pocket,  are  worn  on  the 
right  side.  Some  of  the  sisters  possess,  attached  to 
the  chaplet,  a  small  crucifix,  said  to  be  made  of  the 
wood  of  the  tree  under  which  St.  Vincent  was  in  the 
habit  of  sitting.  The  holy  habit,  when  put  on  or 
taken  off,  is  always  reverentially  kissed.  The  costume 
at  first  adopted  by.l\Irs.  Seton  for  the  institution  of  St. 
Joseph's  is  thus  particularly  described  in  her  life  :  "A 
black  dress  witli  a  short  cape,  similar  to  a  costume 
that  she  had  observed  among  the  religious  in  Italy. 
Tier  head-dress  was  a  neat  white  muslin  cap,  with  a 
crimped  border,  and  a  black  crape  band  around  the 
head,  fastened  under  the  chin." — P.  253. 

The  slioes  worn  by  the  sisters  are  of  the  coarsest 
kind.  Speaking  of  them,  I  may  mention,  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  petty  annoyances  which  are  designedly 
practiced  upon  the  younger  sisters,  for  their  sjpiritual 
advantage  no  doubt,  the  following  incident.      Shortly 

after  my  entrance  as  a  postulant.  Sister  J.  P met 

me  in  the  corridor,  and,  looking  down  at  my  gaiter- 

-    Chapclct.,  French  ;  rosary. 


COSTL'ME   OF   THE   SI6TEKS.  121 

boots,  she  said  to  nie,  ^' You  must  not  wear  such  shoes 
as  those;  come  with  me.''  I  followed  her  to  a  room 
on  the  ground  floor,  partly  paved  with  bricks,  used  for 
bathing,  and  also  as  a  shoe  depository.  Having  seat- 
ed me  on  a  small  bench,  the  sister  said,  "  Put  out  youi- 
foot  here  ;*'  and  then,  for  a  long  time,  looked  for  a  pair 
of  shoes  to  lit  me.  They  were  all  too  large;  and  as 
I  expressed  my  dissatisfaction,  she  said,  "  It's  no  mat- 
ter ;  you  don't  want  your  feet  to  look  small ;  you  are 
not  '  in  the  world'  now;"  and  so  saying,  she  took  the 
smallest  pair  she  could  find,  and  placed  them  on  my 
feet.  These  shoes,  like  all  the  rest  in  the  room,  were 
made  of  leather,  with  a  strap  on  each  side  of  the  in- 
step, and  tied  with  a  leathern  string.  The  soles  were 
about  half  an  inch  thick.  Once  a  week  we  blacked 
our  own  shoes  in  the  same  room.  A  few  days  after 
this,  the  same  sister  met  me  limping,  and  asked  me 
what  was  the  matter.  I  told  her  that  my  feet  were 
chafed  by  the  slipping  of  the  shoes  up  and  down  when 
I  walked,  and  by  the  binding  or  cord  around  the  top. 
She  then  went  with  me  into  the  refectory,  and  cut  the 
binding,  which  somewhat  relieved  me.  It  was  long- 
before  I  could  accustom  myself  to  the  use  of  these 
shoes.  .  A  few  weeks  before  I  left,  I  had  a  new  pair 
given  me,  having  worn  the  former  tlnrough  on  one  side. 
That  pair  was  then  given  in  my  presence  to  a  postu- 
lant ;  whether  they  were  mended  or  not  afterward,  I 
can  not  say.  The  Lady  Superior  wears  morocco 
buskins. 

F 


122  MiSfc)  bunkley's  book* 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  VOW   OF   POVERTY. 

The  first  of  the  vows  taken  in  the  institution,  name- 
ly, that  of  poverty,  is  of  sufficiently  plain  significance, 
its  purpose  being  evidently  to  enrich  the  establishment 
by  so  much  property  as  the  members  of  the  community 
may  possess,  as  well  as  to  derive  from  their  manual  labor 
all  their  earnings,  over  and  above  the  amount  required 
for  their  own  support.  As  members  of  the  commu- 
nity, they  would  naturally  be  more  likely  to  donate 
their  possessions  to  the  institution  than  otherwise  to 
dispose  of  them.  But,  moreover,  their  vow  of  pover- 
ty not  only  precludes  them  from  retaining  this  prop- 
erty within  their  own  hands,  but  actually  places  all 
they  possess  at  the  disposal  of  the  Father  Superior, 
as  declared  by  the  "  Eules,"  and  as  stated  in  the 
*'  Conferences,"  which  are  read  when  the  sisters  as- 
sume the  habit. 

A  sister  breaks  the  vow  of  poverty  should  she  see 
upon  the  floor  a  pin  or  a  needle,  a  piece  of  thread  or 
cotton,  or  any  other  trifle,  and  fail  to  take  care  of  it. 
Economy  is  carried  even  to  parsimoniousness  for  the 
advancement  of  the  order.  Under  this  vow,  a  sister 
can  not  wish  for  any  object,  even  though  it  be  a  new 
habit ;   in  case  that  the  one  she  wears  has  been  worn 


THE    vow    OF    POVERTY.  123 

threadbare,  or  is  torn  or  patched,  she  must  wait  and 
be  contented  till  another  be  given  her.*  The  work 
from  which  the  note  below  is  taken  was  often  quoted 
from  for  our  edification. 

When  speaking  of  the  habit,  shoes,  or  any  other 
article  of  apparel,  a  sister  must  not  say  "  my  habit, 
my  shoes,  or  my  pencil ;"  she  is  not  permitted  to  con- 
sider herself  the  owner  of  any  thing,  not  even  of  her 
own  person.  She  must  feel  that  she  belongs,  soul  and 
body,  to  the  service  of  the  community ;  her  will  per- 
tains to  the  Father  Superior.  The  mistress  of  novices 
once  told  me  that  my  body  was  not  my  own,  but  be- 

*  "The  second  degree  of  poverty,"  saj-s  the  Roman  CathoUc  Text- 
book for  Nuns,  "is  to  deprive  yourself  of  whatever  is  superfluous,  for 
the  smallest  superfluity  will  prevent  a  perfect  union  of  the  soul  with 
God.  St.  Mary  Magdalene  de  Pazzi  went  so  far  as  to  strip  her  little 
altar  of  all  its  ornaments  except  the  crucifix.  St.  Theresa  relates  of 
herseff  that,  knowing  God  to  be  most  jealous  of  religious  poverty,  she 
could  not '  recollect'  herself  in  prayer  so  long  as  she  retained  any  thing 
which  she  thought  to  be  superfluous.  If  in  your  convent  there  is  not 
a  perfect  community  of  property,  endeavor  at  least  to  imitate  the  pov- 
erty practiced  by  the  most  exemplary  and  exact  among  your  compan- 
ions, as  well  in  dress  as  in  food  and  furniture.  But  you  will  perhaps 
say  that  whatever  you  possess  is  retained  with  the  leave  of  the  Supe- 
rior. Permission  to  keep  superfluities  may  save  you  from  the  punish- 
ments inflicted  on  ^proprietors,^  but  will  not  secure  to  you  the  merit 
of  perfect  poverty.  Again,  you  will  perhaps  say  that  you  have  no  at- 
tachment to  what  you  keep  ;  but  whether  you  have  an  attachment  to 
it  or  not,  the  possession  of  what  is  not  necessary  will  always  prevent 
you  from  attaining  the  perfection  of  poverty.  You  may  imagine  that 
a  certain  sum  of  money  or  a  certain  amount  of  property  will  enable  you 
to  relieve  the  poor  or  to  assist  your  companions,  but  I  repeat  that  it 
is  the  nun  who  has  nothing  to  give,  and  not  the  religious  who  has  the 
means  of  distributing  alms,  that  edifies  the  Church. 

"  Above  all,  seek  to  be  poor  in  money." — St.  Alphonsus  Liguori. 
^^Thc  Nun  Sanctified ;'''  translated  and  published/or  the  use  of  English 
Nuns  and  Postulants.     8vo.     Dublin,  1848. 


124:  MISS   liUNKLEl's    BOOK. 

longed  to  the  community.  The  community  is  called 
"  our  mother ;"  and  every  sister  is  bound  to  love  and 
cherish  it  as  a  daughter. 

Some  of  the  sisters  have  constant  hemorrhages  from 
the  lungs,  and  such  are  required  to  carry,  wrapped  in 
a  pocket-handkerchief,  a  small  square  bottle,  which  is 
kept  corked.  This  is  used  by  all  who  raise  blood 
even  occasionally  ;  for,  should  they  use  their  handker- 
chiefs to  wipe  the  blood  from  their  mouths,  it  would  be 
an  infraction  of  the  vow  of  poverty,  as  it  would  tend 
to  wear  them  out,  and  also  cause  a  waste  of  soap  and 
a  loss  of  time  in  washing  them.  The  handkerchiefs 
used  by  the  vow-sisters  in  the  community-room  are 
about  thirty  inches  square  ;  they  are  of  fine  linen,  im- 
ported from  France  in  the  piece,  and  are  cut  so  as  to 
form  a  square  according  to  the  width  of  the  piece. 
The  novices,  however,  use  cotton  handkerchiefs.  . 

The  vow  of  poverty  prohibits  a  sister  from  using  any 
thing  to  gratify  the  senses,  such  as  perfume ;  or  to 
wear  any  ornament  as  such,  or  to  partake  of  any  lux- 
uries, such  as  cake,  preserves,  custard,  or  whatever 
pleases  the  palate.  Should  any  such  article  be  offer- 
ed, it  must  be  refused.  It  is  not  allowable  to  desire 
to  eat  any  thing  but  the  most  common  food,  and  that 
only  when  given.  A  sister  breaks  her  vow  of  poverty 
when  she  gets  hungry  and  desires  to  eat  between 
meals.  At  the  table  she  must  eat  what  is  set  before 
her  or  go  without  eating,  and  she  is  taught  to  take 
food  only  with  a  view  to  strengthen  the  body  for  the 
performance  of  duties,  and  to  take  no  pleasure  in  it. 

She  may  not  accept  the  most  trifling  present  from 
any  one  without  permission  of  the  Superior  or  the 


THE   VOW    OF    POYEKTY.  125 

mistress  of  novices,  nor  can  she  give  away  any  object 
without  first  obtaining  permission.  It  is  not  allowed 
her  to  receive  from  a  boarder  even  a  flower,  though  it 
be  presented  by  a  pupil  under  her  own  tuition. 

It  is  a  mortal  sin  for  a  sister  to  use  perfume,  and 
the  use  of  looking-glasses  is  entirely  prohibited ;  not 
even  the  boarders  are  permitted  to  use  them.  They 
would  sometimes  keep  a  small  piece  concealed,  and  I 
have  known  some  of  them  to  bury  their  perfume-bot- 
tles in  the  play-ground,  because  it  was  a  forbidden  ar- 
ticle. 

One  day,  as  I  passed  a  boarder  who  had  been  ar- 
ranging her  hair,  she  said  to  me,  in  a  playful  manner, 
"  Sister,  what  is  this  on  my  hair?"  I  stooped  my 
head,  and,  smelling  the  perfume,  smiled,  but  said  noth- 
ing. An  old  sister,  coming  along  at  the  time,  observed 
the  movement,  and  said,  lifting  up  her  hands  in  holy 
horror,.  "Why,  sister,  why  did  you  not  practice  morti- 
fication?" It  will  be  remembered  that  to  touch  or  no- 
tice any  person,  even  a  boarder,  in  the  way  of  a  pleas- 
ing attention,  or  for  any  other  purpose  than  the  per- 
formance of  the  "duties"  assigned,  is  a  mortal  sin. 
The  person  of  a  sister  is  considered  sacred  and  holy^ 
and  this  impression  is  to  be  made  and  kept  in  the 
minds  of  the  boarders. 

A  few  words  in  relation  to  our  conduct  toward  the 
boarders  of  the  academy  may  not  be  out  of  place  here. 

As  a  young  novice,  looking  so  sanctimonious,  so 
sad  and  dejected,  I  was  often  regarded  by  the  mis- 
chievous girls  of  the  academy  with  doubt  and  incre- 
dulity as  to  my  fitness  for  the  life  of  a  convent,  and 
frequently  they  would  say  to  me,  "  Sister,  what  did 


126  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

you  come  here  for?  Sister,  you  ought  to  be  in  the 
world ;  you  can  not  be  happy  here  ;  you  will  certain- 
ly die  if  you  stay  here ;  I  believe  you  are  dying  Avith 
the  consumption ;  you  look  like  a  saint,  sister,  but 
you  are  too  young  to  be  here ;  this  is  not  the  place 
for  you, "etc.  Yet,  though  such  kindly-meant  remarks 
might  be  made  to  me  by  the  boarders,  it  was  never 
safe  to  communicate  with  them  or  to  corroborate  their 
surmises,  lest  it  should  reach  the  ear  of  the  Superior, 
and  bring  upon  me  the  infliction  of  penances  as  well  as 
more  strict  confinement  and  more  onerous  "  duties." 
Had  I  given  to  any  one  of  them  a  hint  of  dissatisfac- 
tion, she  might  have  repeated  it  in  anotlier  class-room, 
or  at  least  have  allowed  some  allusion  to  escape,  upon 
which  I  would  have  been  immediately  arraigned.  The 
necessity  of  such  strict  surveilla^nce  over  those  sisters 
who  have  duties  in  the  academy  will  at  once  appear. 
Any  such  intimation  of  dissatisfied  feeling  might  alarm 
some  boarder  who  was  seriously  thinking  of  entering 
the  community;  hence  none  but  those  whose  exem- 
plary conduct  recommended  them  to  the  officers  as  re- 
liable in  this  particular  were  permitted  to  teach  the 
boarders. 

To  stop  in  the  corridor  for  the  purpose  of  looking  at 
or  smelling  a  flower,  whose  fresh  bloom  and  delicate 
odor  might  occasionally  tempt  to  a  momentary  indul- 
gence of  innocent  enjoyment — this  would  be  a  loss  of 
time,  and  thus  would  amount  to  a  breach  of  the  vow 
of  poverty.  Not  an  instant  must  be  wasted  in  any 
sort  of  pleasurable  occupation.  Secular  music  is  nev- 
er allowed  in  the  community.  It  is  ioor}<\  or  iDorship 
— "  duties"  of  some  kind  or  other,  and  that  continue 


THE   VOW   OF   POVERTY.  127 

ally.  When  lying  upon  the  bed  at  night,  every  wake- 
ful moment  must  be  employed  in  meditations  on  the 
subject  assigned  before  retiring,  in  the  recitation  of 
prayers,  or  in  "making  aspirations,"  that  is,  uttering 
some  ejaculatory  expression,  such  as  "  Sweet  Jesus ! 
Sweet  Mother !  Holy  St.  Joseph,  pray  for  me !  My 
blessed  Mother !  Holy  Virgin  I  ]\Iary  my  Mother !" 
etc. 

Even  during  sickness,  a  sister  is  not  permitted  to 
have  or  to  desire  any  article,  such  as  ice,  that  might 
be  grateful  to  the  taste,  and  add  to  her  comfort  while 
the  fever  is  upon  her.  Of  this  I  will"  relate  a  single 
instance.  It  is  that  of  the  sick  sister  in  the  infirmary, 
by  whose  appearance  I  had  been  particularly  struck 
during  my  postulancy,  and  who  had  subsequently  been 
sent  away  from  the  institution.  I  now  saw  her  again. 
She  had  been  to  Baltimore  for  the  amputation  of  her 
arm,  and  while  absent,  prayers  had  been  said  for  her, 
that  she  might  survive  the  operation.  She  had  now 
returned,  the  arm  having  been  taken  off  below  the  el- 
bow. I  saw  her  in  the  infirmary,  where  I  was  also, 
ill.  After  my  recovery  I  was  put  there  on  duty. 
Among  others  I  attended  her,  dressing  her  arm,  chang- 
ing her  clothes,  and  administering  her  medicine. 

She  was  placed  in  a  small  room  adjoining  the  main 
apartment,  and  was  the  only  patient  there,  although 
the  infirmary  was  not  at  that  time  full.  It  was  the 
room  that  I  have  elsewhere  mentioned  as  used  for  the 
purpose  of  a  "  dead  room,"  bodies  being  laid  out  there 
previous  to  the  funeral  service  in  the  chapel  and  the 
interment.  At  this  period  I  slept  in  the  infirmary. 
One  night  I  was  awoke  by  a  furious  storm  that  moan- 


128  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ed  and  whistled  round  the  buikling.  Hearing  steps  in 
the  passage  near  the  infirmary  door,  I  rose,  and  went 
to  ascertain  the  cause.  There  is  no  door  between  the 
infirmary  and  the  small  room  before  alluded  to,  but 
the  doors  of  both  rooms  open  upon  one  passage,  as  be- 
fore related.  I  saw  a  figure  in  white  leaning  against 
the  wall.  It  was  the  poor  sister,  who  had  come  out 
into  the  passage.  She  appeared  exceedingly  agitated 
and  alarmed,  and  entreated  me  to  accompany  her  to 
her  room,  stating  that  she  had  been  so  startled  by  ex- 
traordinary sounds  that  she  should  certainly  die  with 
terror.  Supposing  that  the  storm  had  thus  frightened 
her,  I  went  and  remained  with  her  till  it  was  over ; 
but  she  could  not  be  pacified.  She  afterward  declared 
that  these  noises  had  been  heard  before  the  storm, 
and  were  still  repeated  nightly ;  and  as  evening  ap- 
proached, she  seemed  in  an  agony  of  distress,  beseech- 
ing me  to  procure  a  light  for  her.  The  room  was,  I 
think,  the  same  with  that  in  which  had  died  the  7'eli- 
gieuse  from  whose  coffin  the  sound  of  rapping  appeared 
to  proceed. 

In  assisting  one  day  to  change  lier  clothes,  I  was 
surprised  to  observe  a  large  swelling  on  her  right  side. 
I  asked  her  the  cause  of  it.  She  told  me  that  she  had 
been  in  the  institution  about  eight  months,  wlien  she 
was  sent  from  the  refectory  one  evening  for  some 
plates.  She  was  bringing  an  armful  from  the  kitchen, 
and  was  crossing  the  porch,  covered  at  that  time  with 
ice  and  snow,  when  she  stumbled  and  fell,  her  side 
striking  across  a  tub  which  stood  in  her  way,  and  thus 
the  swelling  had  been  occasioned.  She  had  been  sent 
to  the  infirmary,  but  nothing  was  done  for  her  side — 


THE   YOW   OF   POVERTY.  129 

no  application  whatever  having  been  made  to  it.  Her 
health  had  been  bad  ever  since,  and  she  had  been  re- 
peatedly sent  to  the  infirmary.  I  touched  the  lump, 
and  it  appeared  to  me  like  a  projecting  portion  of  bone. 
I  continued  to  attend  her  for  some  weeks,  and  about 
a  fortnight  after  I  had  left  the  infirmary  she  died.  She 
was  not  allowed  a  light  at  night,  though  more  than 
once  she  pleaded  for  it.  She  asked  for  ice  to  put  in 
the  water  she  drank,  and  was  refused.  I  made  the 
same  request  in  her  behalf,  but  could  not  obtain  it. 
She  solicited  some  little  delicacies,  such  as  a  lemon 
and  an  apple,  but  they  were  denied  her.  No  sick  per- 
son is  permitted  to  ask  for  any  thing ;  I  never  dared 
do  so  when  ill.  The  very  things  desired  were  gener- 
ally the  last  to  be  gTanted. 

This  sister  had  a  cough,  and  was,  as  I  supposed,  in 
the  consumption.  Her  arm  was  never  entirely  healed. 
She  was  a  native  of  Switzerland,  and  spoke  broken  En- 
glish. She  told  me  she  had  come  to  this  country  with 
her  sister  and  her  sister's  husband  from  France.  They 
placed  her  at  St.  Joseph's,  and  left  her  there ;  she  had 
never  seen  or  heard  from  them  since.  I  inferred  at 
the  time  that,  in  all  probability,  she  had  been  wealthy, 
or  had  been  brought  there  for  some  WTong  motive,  in- 
stead of  being  left  at  the  Mother  House  in  Paris  ;  and 
she  often  expressed  the  wish  that  she  had  been  so  left, 
instead  of  being  brought  to  this  country.  Some  mys- 
tery was  connected  with  her  case.  I  frequently  saiv 
her  weeping ;  she  would  refuse  medicine,  and  say  she 
did  not  wish  to  live.  I  helped  to  lay  her  body  in  the 
coffin ;  I  watched  by  the  side  of  it,  and  assisted  two 
other  novices  in  carrying  it  to  the  chapel  door  and 

F2 


130  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

placing  it  upon  the  bier.  Under  the  weight  of  the 
burden  in  so  doing,  I  was  almost  bent  to  the  ground, 
and  thouo-ht  I  should  have  fainted  with  the  effort. 

o 

This  sister's  name  was  Neomesia;  her  age  I  should 
judge  to  have  been  about  twenty  to  twenty-three 
years. 


vows    OF   CHASTITY   AND    OBEDIENCE.  131 


CHAPTER  XXVT. 

vows    OF    CnASTITY   AND    OBEDIENCE. 

The  other  two  vows,  or  obligations  of  Chastity  and 
Obedience,  when  fully  explained  in  their  relations 
with  the  peculiar  ideas  inculcated  by  the  priests  con- 
cerning their  breach  and  observance,  will  doubtless 
prove  novel  and  startling  to  the  unsophisticated  deni- 
zens of  "the  world"  without,  to  whom  Jesuitical  casu- 
istry and  doctrine  are  unknown  pursuits  of  study. 
These  vows  will  be  treated  in  connection. 

A  sister  or  religieuse  breaks  the  vow  of  chastity 
by  looking  a  man  or  woman,  and  even  a  "sister,"  in 
the  face,  unless  required  by  duty.*     She  must  not 

*  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,  one  of  the  most  eminent  saints  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  Church  in  modern  times,  in  his  work  entitled  "  The  Nun 
Sanctified,"  thus  dilates  on  the  "  sanctification  of  the  eyes  :" 

"  A  deliberate  glance  at  a  person  of  a  different  sex  often  enkindles 
an  infernal  spark  which  consumes  the  soul.  The  first  dart  which 
wounds  and  frequently  robs  chaste,  souls  of  life  finds  admission  through 
the  eyes.  St.  Bernard,  after  being  a  novice  for  a  year,  could  not  tell 
whether  his  cell  was  vaulted.  In  consequence  of  never  raising  his 
eyes  from  Ihe  ground,  he  never  knew  that  there  were  but  three  win- 
dows in  the  church  of  the  monastery  in  which  he  spent  his  novitiate. 
The  saints  were  particularly  cautious  not  to  look  at  persons  of  a  differ- 
ent sex.  St.  Hugh,  bishop,  when  compelled  to  speak  with  women, 
iiever  looked  at  them  in  the  face.  St.  Clare  would  never  fix  her  eyes 
on  the  face  of  a  man  ;  she  was  greatly  afflicted  because,  when  raising 
her  eyes  at  the  elevation  to  see  the  consecrated  Host,  she  once  invol- 


132  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

raise  her  eyes  to  a  sister,  nor  when  speaking  to  or  ad- 
dressed by  the  Father  Superior,  her  confessor,  or  any 

untarily  saw  the  countenance  of  the  priest.  St.  Lewis  Gonzaga  never 
looked  his  own  mother  in  the  face.  It  is  related  of  St.  Arsenius  that 
a  noble  lady  went  to  visit  him  in  the  desert  to  beg  of  him  to  recom- 
mend her  to  God.  When  the  saint  perceived  that  his  visitor  was  a 
woman,  he  turned  away  from  her.  She  then  said  to  him,  '  Arsenius, 
since  you  will  neither  see  nor  hear  me,  at  least  remember  me  in  your 
prayers.'  'No,'  replied  the  saint,  'but  I  will  beg  of  God  to  make  me 
forget  you,  and  never  more  to  think  of  you.'    . 

"  From  these  examples,"  proceeds  the  saint,  "may  be  seen  the  fol- 
ly and  temerity  of  some  religious,  who,  though  they  have  not  the  sanc- 
tity of  a  St.  Clare,  still  gaze  around  from  the  terrace,  in  the  parlor,  and 
in  the  church,  upon  every  object  that  presents  itself,  even  on  persons 
of  a  different  sex  ;  and  notwithstanding  their  unguarded  looks,  they 
expect  to  be  free  from  temptations  and  from  the  danger  of  sin.  For 
having  once  looked  deliberately  at  a  woman  who  was  gathering  ears 
of  corn,  the  Abbot  Pastor  was  tormented  for  forty  years  by  tempta- 
tions against  chastity.  St.  Gregory  states  that  the  temptation,  to  con- 
quer which  St.  Benedict  rolled  himself  in  thorns,  arose  from  one  incau- 
tious glance  at  a  female.  St.  Jerome,  though  living  in  a  cave  at  Beth- 
lehem in  continual  prayer  and  macerations  of  the  flesh,  was  terribly 
molested  by  the  remembrance  of  ladies  whom  he  had  long  before  seen 
in  Rome.  Why  should  not  similar  molestations  be  the  lot  of  the  re- 
ligious who  willfully  and  without  reserve  fixes  her  eyes  on  persons  of 

a  different  sex  % Father  Manareo,  when  taking  leave  of  St. 

Ignatius  for  a  distant  place,  looked  steadfastly  in  his  face  ;  for  this  look 
he  was  corrected  by  the  saint.  From  the  conduct  of  St.  Ignatius  on 
this  occasion,  we  learn  that  it  was  not  becoming  in  religious  to  fix  their 
eyes  on  the  countenance  of  a  person  even  of  the  same  sex,  particular- 
ly if  the  person  is  young.  But  I  do  not  see  how  looks  at  a  young  per- 
son of  a  different  se-x  can  be  excused  from  the  guilt  of  a  venial  fault, 
or  even  from  mortal  sin,  when  there  is  proximate  danger  of  criminal 
consent. 

"  Except  in  looking  at  such  objects  (sacred  images,  etc.),  a  religious 
should  in  general  keep  the  eyes  cast  down,  and  particularly  in  places 
where  they  may  fall  upon  dangerous  objects.  In  conversing  with 
men,  she  should  never  roll  the  eyes  about  to  look  at  them,  and  much 
less  fo  look  at  them  a  second  time. 

"  St.  Francis  of  Assisium  once  said  to  his  companion  that  he  v/as 


vows   OF   CHASTITY   AND    OBEDIENCE.  133 

Other  priest.  She  must  not  suffer  her  thoughts  to 
dwell  upon  any  individual  of  the  other  sex.  She 
must  not  touch  a  sister's  hand,  nor  her  habit,  nor  al- 
low herself  to  be  touched  by  another.  Persons  "in 
the  world"  she  must  neither  look  at  nor  touch,  nor  may 
she  permit  them  to  touch  her  hand  or  her  habit.  If 
allowed  to  see  a  father  or  a  brother,  she  must  not  take 
his  hand.  Sisters  may  not  see  one  another  with  their 
heads  uncovered.  A  religieuse  must  renounce  all  cu- 
riosity, never  look  around  her,  nor  through  a  window, 
nor  toward  a  door  when  it  is  opened,  to  see  who  enters. 
She  must  walk  through  the  cloisters  and  corridors  with 
downcast  eyes,  and  hands  folded  in  her  sleeves  in  front 
of  her  breast,  passing  and  repassing  the  sisters  with- 
out a  word  or  a  sign  of  recognition. 

Should  a  sister  be  seen  conversing  with  a  boarder, 
she  would  be  reported  to  the  Superior,  severely  repri- 

going  out  to  preach.  After  walking  through  the  town  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  ground,  he  returned  to  the  convent.  His  companion  ask- 
ed him  when  he  would  preach  the  sermon.  '  We  have,'  replied  the 
saint,  '  by  the  modesty  of  our  looks,  given  an  excellent  instruction  to 
all  who  saw  us.'  It  is  related  of  St.  Lewis  Gonzaga  that,  when  he 
walked  through  Rome,  the  students  would  stand  in  the  streets  to  ob- 
serve and  admire  his  great  modesty." 

How  unlike  the  real  quality,  we  may  add,  is  this  sham  modesty  that 
says,  Come  and  see  how  modest  we  are  ! 

"  To  be  faithful  to  her  spouse,"  says  St.  Basil,  "  a  virgin  must  be 
immaculate  in  her  tongue  by  the  delicacy  of  her  language,  and  by  ab- 
stinence as  much  as  possible  from  conversations  with  men ;  she  must  be 
immaculate  in  the  ears  by  shunning,  like  death  itself,  all  worldly  dis- 
courses ;  immaculate  in  her  eyes  by  the  modesty  of  her  looks,  always 
restrained  so  as  never  to  fix  them  on  the  face  of  a  man,"  etc. — St. 
Basil,  dc  Vera  Virg. 

Injunctions  of  this  character  were  frequently  repeated  to  us  by  the 
priests  and  mistress  of  novices  for  our  instruction. 


134 

manded,  and  assigned  a  penance.  Often  have  I  veil- 
ed, by  a  powerful  effort,  my  unliappiness  from  the 
boarders,  but  they  could  not  help  observing  and  mark- 
ing at  times  the  paleness  of  my  countenance,  which 
bore  traces  of  the  agony  that  shook  at  times  my  very 
soul.  Yet  I  durst  not  appear  otherwise  than  calm  and 
collected,  nor  say  one  word  about  the  cause  of  my  un- 
happiness,  nor  even  raise  my  eyes,  while  walking- 
through  the  academy. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  I  would  venture  to  answer  the 
voice  of  some  gentle  girl,  who  would  speak  to  me  in 
passing,  and  whose  sunny  smile  would  cheer  my  sad 
and  lonely  heart,  but  from  the  clasp  of  whose  hand 
I  would  be  forced  to  recoil  as  from  a  sei-pent's  touch. 
I  was  narrowly  watched,  and  frequently  reported  as 
guilty  of  "  impropriety,"  and  many  a  reprimand  have  I 
received  for  speaking  on  such  an  occasion,  or  for  suffer- 
ing my  hand  to  be  taken,  or  my  waist  encircled  by  the 
arm  of  a  pupil,  an  offense  which  would  be  reported  by 
spies  of  the  community,  who  are  ever  on  the  alert. 
Indeed^  the  rule  requires  that  any  such  transgression 
be  avowed  in  confession,  and  that  penance  be  solicited 
in  expiation  of  it. 

But  in  regard  to  the  observance  of  these  and  all 
other  rules,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that,  should  the 
Superior  at  any  time  command  the  contrary,  the  sis- 
ter must  OBEY.  Should  a  priest,  and  particularly  a 
priest  of  the  Order  of  St.  Lazare,  take  her  hand,  with 
whatever  intention,  she  may  not  withdraw  it.  TAe 
vow  (9/*  OBEDIENCE  here  has  su2:)reinacy  over  the  vovj 
of  chastity. 

Should  her  thoughts  go  out  into  the  world,  should 


YOWS   OF   CHASTITY  AND   OBEDIENCE.  135 

memory  call  up  a  friend  of  the  other  sex,  should  the 
mind  overleap  prescribed  limits,  especially  with  refer- 
ence to  a  priest,  she  must  make  known  that  thought 
at  the  confessional.  Yet  if  the  Superior,  her  confess- 
or, or  any  other  Lazarist,  should  direct  her  thoughts 
to  such  topics,  she  would  be  commendable  in  so  doing, 
for  she  would  prove  her  obedience. 

In  the  books  of  the  "  Conferences,"  so  called,  which 
arc  occasionally  read  to  the  community,  particular  di- 
rections are  given  by  the  founder  concerning  the  vows, 
rules,  and  reejulations  of  the  sisterhood.  These  books 
are  kept  locked  in  a  mahogany  box,  and  are  only  taken 
out  to  be  read  to  the  community  during  annual  re- 
treat. When  reading  these  "  Conferences,"  as  trans- 
lated from  the  French  original,  I  have  frequently  been 
made  to  blush  at  what  I  was  reading.  In  one  of  these 
books  the  sisters  are  told  not  to  fall  in  love  with  a 
priest ;  but  should  they  do  so,  to  tell  him  of  it,  and  ob- 
tain his  advice.  Should  a  sister  on  a  mission  chance 
to  entertain  such  feelings  toward  a  priest,  she  is  in- 
structed at  once  to  inform  the  Superior,  and  ask  for  a 
change  of  place.      Sometimes  this  request  is  granted. 

And  here  I  would  solicit  the  earnest  and  candid  at- 
tention of  the  reader  to  the  infamous  craft  exercised  in 
these  regulations.  A  young  girl,  thoughtlessly  be- 
trayed into  an  infraction  of  the  rules,  such  as  that  just 
mentioned,  discloses  her  error  as  required.  The  priest 
thus  informed  can  eitlier  take  advantage  of  her  con- 
fession or  not,  as  he  may  feel  inclined,  or  as  his  judg- 
ment of  the  character  of  the  sister  may  determine. 
Sometimes  policy  will  induce  him  to  express  a  holy 
horror  at  the  offense,  with  a  view  to  the  exalting  of 


136  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

his  own  superior  sanctity,  and  this  especially  if  he 
should  entertain  an  aversion  for  the  penitent,  or  should 
he  deem  her  an  unsuitable  subject  for  his  purposes. 
On  the  other  hand,  should  his  own  evil  heart  suggest 
to  him  the  moral  destruction  of  this  sister,  how  great 
the  advantage  he  possesses  for  its  accomplishment,  in 
view  of  this  doctrine  of  passive  and  meritorious  obe- 
dience. 

In  a  word,  the  sisters  are  taught  that  their  vow  of 
OBEDIENCE  is  supreme  ;  that  the  expressed  will  of  the 
Superior  must  be  regarded  as  the  voice  of  God,  and 
that  in  case  the  voiu  of  chastity  he  violated  by  those 
exei'cising  authoynty  over  thein,  no  sin  can  he  imjputed 
to  themselves^  because  they  are  doing  right  hy  main- 
taining inviolate  the  void  of  obedience.* 

*  If  the  testimony  of  personal  observation  on  this  subject  needs  to 
be  confirmed,  it  will  only  be  requisite  to  quote  a  few  words  from  the 
highest  authorities.  "  The  principal  and  most  efficacious  means  of 
practicing  the  obedience  due  to  superiors,"  says  St.  Alphonsus  Li- 
guori,  "  and  of  rendering  it  meritorious  before  God,  is  to  consider  that, 
in  obeying  theni,  wc  obey  God  himself,  and  that  by  despising  their 
commands  we  despise  the  authority  of  our  divine  Master,  who  has 
said  of  superiors,  '  He  that  heareth  you,  heareth  me.'  When,  then,  a 
religious  receives  a  precept  from  her  prelate,  superior,  or  confessor, 
she  should  immediately  execute  it,  not  only  to  please  men,  but  prin- 
cipally to  please  God,  whose  will  is  made  known  to  her  by  their  com- 
mands. In  obeying  their  directions,  she  is  more  certain  of  doing  the 
will  of  God  than  if  an  angel  came  down  from  heaven  to  manifest  his 
will  to  her. 

"  It  may  be  added  that  there  is  more  certainty  of  doing  the  will 
of  God  by  obedience  to  superiors,  than  by  obedience  to  Jesus  Christ, 
should  he  appear  in  person  and  give  his  commands.  Because,  should 
Jesus  Christ  appear  to  a  religious,  she  would  not  be  certain  whether 
it  was  he  that  spoke  or  an  evil  spirit,  who,  under  the  appearance  of 
the  Redeemer,  wished  to  deceive  her.  ...  In  a  word,  the  only  way 
by  which  a  religious  can  become  a  saint,  and  be  saved,  is  to  observk 


vows    OF   CHAS'IlTY    AND    OBEDIENCE.  137 

HER  RULE  ;  FOR  HER  THERE  IS  NO  OTHER  WAY  THAT  LEADS  TO  SALVA- 
TION !" 

Awful  blasphemy  !  Yet  Jesus  said,  "  I  am  the  way;  ho  man  com- 
eth  to  the  Father  but  by  me." 

"  The  fourth  and  last  degree  of  perfect  obedience,"  observes  this 
saint  elsewhere,  "  is  to  obey  with  simplicity.  ...  St.  Mary  Magdalene 
de  Pazzi  says  that  ^perfect  obedience  requires  a  soul  without  a  will,  and 
a  will  without  an  intellect.'  ....  To  regard  as  good  ivhatercr  superiors 
command  is  the  blind  obedience  so  much  praised  by  the  saints,  and  is 
the  duty  of  every  religious To  try  the  obedience  of  their  sub- 
jects, superiors  sometimes  impose  commands  that  are  inexpedient,  and 
even  absurd.  St.  Francis  commanded  his  disciples  to  plant  cabbages 
with  their  roots  uppermost.  He  obUged  Brother  ?klatthew  to  continue 
turning  round  till  he  fell  to  the  ground." 

Copious  directions  are  given  to  nuns  by  St.  Alphonsus  as  to  the  ne- 
cessity of  blindly  following  the  confessor.  "  Obey  him,  then,"  he  says, 
"  not  as  man,  but  as  God,  and  yoic  shall  never  err.  In  the  beginning 
of  his  conversion,  St.  Ignatius  of  Loyola  was  so  violently  assailed  by 
scruples,  and  so  encumbered  with  darkness,  that  he  found  no  peace. 
But  because  he  had  true  faith  in  the  word  of  God  {he  that  hcareth  you 
heareth  me),  he  said,  with  great  confidence,  '  Lord,  show  me  the  way 
in  which  I  ought  to  walk,  and,  though  you  should  give  me  a  dog  for 
my  guide,  I  will  faithfully  follow  him.'  " 

But  lest  it  be  supposed  that  any  exercise  of  judgment  be  allowed  the 
nun  as  to  what  is  divine  guidance  and  what  is  not,  St.  Alphonsus 
takes  care  to  add :  "  To  nuns  who  begin  to  censure  the  decisions  of 
their  confessors,  we  ought  to  say  what  the  learned  Monsignior  Sperelli 
wrote  to  a  religious  who  had  accused  him  of  heresy  because  he  had 
said  that  the  sins  which  she  had  confessed  were  not  sins.  '  Tell  me,' 
said  the  learned  bishop  to  her,  '  in  what  university  have  you  studied 
theology,  that  you  know  better  than  your  confessor  how  to  decide  on 
sinl     Ah  !  go  to  spin,  and  do  not  give  ear  to  such  folUes.'  " 

Such  are  the  perils  of  a  loose  morality — should  we  not  rather  say 
of  a  gross  immorality] — to  which  a  young  girl  is  exposed,  in  our  own 
Christian  land,  who  gives  herself  to  the  guidance  of  corrupt  and  cor- 
rupting priests.  The  voice  of  conscience,  that  monitor  of  God's  own 
appointment  in  e^-ery  human  bosom,  is  silenced  by  the  vile  utterance 
of  a  sinful  man.  The  "  more  sure  word  of  prophecy,"  which  God  has 
put  into  our  hands  as  all-sufficient  for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correc- 
tion, for  instruction  in  righteousness,  that  the  man  of  God  might  be 
perfect,  thoroughly  furnished  unto  every  good  work,  is  laid  aside  for 
the  authority  of  the  confessional  and  the  lying  wonders  of  tradition. 


138  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MORALS   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S. 

As  the  result  of  these  pernicious  and  utterly  demor- 
alizing doctrines,  a  lamentable  state  of  things,  I  grieve 
to  say,  existed  among  a  portion  of  the  community  at 
St.  Joseph's.  It  was  some  time — so  little  suspicion 
of  the  truth  was  entertained — before  I  understood  and 
appreciated  the  symptoms  of  the  evil  that  raged  around 
me.  When,  at  length,  the  light  dawned  upon  my 
mind,  it  was  accompanied  by  a  shock  as  of  electricity, 
that  paralyzed  me  for  the  moment.  I  almost  doubted 
the  evidence  of  my  senses  ;  but  with  the  reaction  came 
the  strong  resolution  to  leave  at  all  hazards  the  pre- 
cincts of  such  an  establishment ;  a  resolution  only 
hastened  in  its  accomplishment  by  subsequent  events. 

And  here  let  me  add — for  I  would  not  be  so  misun- 
derstood—  that  I  have  no  intention  to  include  the 
whole  sisterhood  in  one  sweeping  charge  of  immoral- 
ity. Far  from  it.  Many  are  unquestionably  pure  in 
their  feelings  and  sincere  in  their  desires  to  serve  God, 
however  mistaken  and  ill  founded  the  views  which 
they  have  learned  to  entertain.  Many  would  be  glad 
to  be  freed  from  their  bonds,  and,  like  a  liberated  bird, 
sing  rejoicingly  at  their  release ;  but  others  are  infat- 
uated with  their  lot,  and  no  inducement  could  be  of- 
fered that  would  tempt  them  to  leave  it. 


MORALS  AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.  139 

Infractions  of  moral  duty  and  departures  from  rec- 
titude are  the  legitimate  consequences  of  the  system 
from  which  they  spring,  and  whatever  errors  may  be 
committed  by  the  sisters  are  justly  chargeable  to  the 
reverend  guides  and  directors  who  inculcate  such  mis- 
chievous tenets.* 

*  That  the  Church  of  Rome  knows  well  the  danger  rising  from  the 
confessional,  and  the  law  of  blind  obedience,  to  priest  and  penitent 
both,  is  clear  from  her  instructions  on  the  subject  addressed  to  confess- 
ors. Thus  Dens's  work  on  Moral  Theology,  the  text-book  at  Maynooth 
and  at  other  Roman  Catholic  seminaries,  has  a  clause  on  just  causes 
for  permitting  feelings  of  a  sensual  nature.  And  here  it  is  distinctly 
stated  that  just  causes  of  this  sort  are  the  hearing  of  confessions  ;  the 
reading  of  cases  of  conscience  drawn  up  for  a  confessor  ;  necessary  or 
useful  attendance  on  an  invalid.  "  The  eficct  of  a  just  cause  is  such," 
he  proceeds  to  say,  "that  any  thing  from  which  such  sentiments  arise 
may  be  not  only  lawfully  begun,  but  also  lawfully  continued  ;  and  so 
the  confessor,  receiving  those  sentiments  from  the  hearing  of  confes- 
sions, ought  not,  on  that  account,  to  abstain  from  hearing  them,  but  has 
a  just  cause  for  persevering  ;  provided,  however,  that  they  always  dis- 
please him,  and  there  arise  not  therefrom  the  proximate  danger  of  con- 
sent." And  the  theologian  proceeds  to  mention  cases  in  which  con- 
fessors, in  the  performance  of  their  office,  were  accustomed  to  fall  into 
sin  as  often  as  two  and  three  times  in  a  month  ;  adding,  that  it  is  the 
duty  of  the  confessor,  in  such  a  case,  notwithstanding,  to  persevere  in 
the  discharge  of  his  calling  !  See  Deiis,  tom.  i.,  p.  299,  300,  Coyne's 
Dublin  edition,  1832. 

But  more  than  this :  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  "  the  Angelic  Doctor," 
states  as  a  thesis,  that  "  a  '  religious,'  violating  the  three  primary  arti- 
cles of  his  rule,  viz.,  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience,  sins  mortally." 
This  thesis,  however,  is  not  laid  down  to  be  maintained,  but  to  be  dis- 
proved, and  St.  Thomas  proceeds  so  to  do  : 

"  The  state  of  a  '  religious'  is  a  safe  state. 

*'  But  a  '  religious'  is  exposed  to  many  temptations  to  break  his  rules, 
and  if  to  break  his  rules  were  mortal  sin,  then  the  state  of  a  *  relig- 
ious' would  be  dangerous  instead  of  safe. 

"Therefore  it  is  not  mortal  sin  for  a  'religious'  to  transgress  his 
rules!"  —  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  Secunda  Secundae,  Quaest.  clxxxvi., 
art.  9. 


140  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

The  power  conferred  upon  the  fathers  by  the  rite  of 
confession  affords  them  great  facilities  to  accomplish 
their  purposes.  The  highest  importance  is  given  to 
a  strict  and  punctual  attendance  at  the  confessional, 
which  may  truly  be  denominated  the  throne  of  the, 
Koman  Catholic  ecclesiastic;  for  there,  armed  with 
the  assumed  authority  of  God,  in  whose  stead  he  offi- 
ciates on  earth  to  the  suppliant  slaves  prostrate  be- 
fore him,  he  deals  the  terrible  anathema  of  the  Church 
to  the  disobedient  and  refractory,  dispenses  his  "  ab- 
solution" to  the  faithful  and  submissive,  and  awards 
the  "penance"  to  be  observed  in  expiation  for  sin. 
Seated  at  the  confessional,  he  is  empowered,  by  vir- 
tue of  his  self-arrogated  position,  to  propound  queries 
which,  from  the  lips  of  others,  would  be  deemed  fla- 
grant insults.  Kneeling  there,  the  young  maiden  an- 
swers questions  calculated  to  eradicate  every  feeling  of 
modesty,  woman's  highest  charm,  and  lays  bare  to  the 
inquisitive  search  of  her  "  spiritual  director"  every  se- 
cret thought,  every  incipient  emotion,  every  impulse  of 
her  being.  How  easy,  then,  for  an  evil-disposed  con- 
fessor stealthily  to  infuse  into  the  innocent  and  trust- 
ing heart,  taught  to  consider  blind  obedience  a  vir- 
tue, thoughts,  whose  grow^th,  cherished  by  his  daily 
care,  shall  soon  fill  it  with  a  diseased  vegetation.  If 
any  distrust  betray  itself— if  any  hesitation  appear  to 
the  answering  of  these  artfully-framed  inquiries,  the 
objector  is  readily  quieted  by  an  assurance  that  it  is 
the  confessor's  duty,  for  her  soul's  sake,  to  propound 
these  queries  ;  that  he  is  the  authorized  medium  of 
communication  between  her  soul  and  Heaven;  that 
he  occupies  the  place  of  the  Almighty  in  reference  to 


MORALS  AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.  141 

her  spiritual  wants  and  requirements,  and  must  be  so 
regarded  if  she  wishes  to  avoid  purgatorial  iires  and 
secure  future  felicity.  Is  it,  then,  a  matter  of  wonder, 
that  those  brought  up  within  the  pale  o-f  this  Church, 
and  whose  every  thought  and  feeling  from  childhood 
to  maturity  has  been  watched  and  directed  by  such  a 
"  spiritual  guide,*'  should  yield  themselves  entirely  to 
his  control,  and  even  see  no  danger  in  their  abject  sub- 
missiveness,  nor  evil  purpose  in  his  exercise  of  unlim- 
ited power  ? 

But  if  "in  the  world,"  as  it  is  technically  termed, 
the  confessional  may  be  such  a  source  of  perilous  and 
demoralizing  influence  to  the  youthful  mind,  and  so  po- 
tent an  agency  for  the  subserviency  of  guilty  designs, 
it  may  easily  be  conceived  that  in  a  religious  commu- 
nity, whose  members  are  secluded  from  public  obser- 
vation, and  given  over,  bodily  and  spiritually,  to  the 
charge  of  priests,  its  control  must  be  more  absolute, 
and  more  unscrupulously  exercised.*     Shut  up  and 

"  This  inevitable  result  is  eloquently  set  forth  by  the  able  author  of 
Mornings  with  the  Jesuits  at  Rome.  "  In  these  nunneries,"  he  says, 
speaking  of  the  convents  of  Tuscany,  "  there  are  sometimes  thirty, 
sometin^es  forty,  sometimes  fifty,  and  in  many  even  one  hundred  nuns. 
And  these  nunneries  have  almost  always  convents  near  them,  more  or 
less  large,  for  those  monks  who  are  to  be  the  confessors  of  those  nuns. 
And  living,  as  these  nuns  always  do,  in  a  state  of  seclusion  and  dull- 
ness ;  living,  as  they  do,  a  life  of  hopelessness  and  monotony,  without 
the  interests  of  mothers,  for  they  have  no  children;  without  the  inter- 
ests of  children,  for  they  have  no  parents  ;  without  the  interests  of  sis- 
ters, for  they  have  no  brothers  ;  without  the  interests  of  wives,  for  they 
have  no  husbands,  they  are  thrown  upon  their  own  confessors  for  so- 
ciety. And  the  visits  of  the  monks  from  the  adjoining  convents  break 
the  tedium  of  their  lives  ;  break  in  and  while  away  their  hours  of  idle- 
ness, brin'T  to  them  the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood,  and  reveal  to  them 
the  news  °of  the  outer  world.     And  the  result  is,  that  from  the  rising 


142  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

deprived  of  intercourse  or  communication,  even  hy  let- 
ter, with  parents,  relations,  and  friends,  and  taught  by 
the  invariable  law  of  human  instinct  to  seek  direction 
and  sympathy  from  other  minds,  the  inmates  of  these 
institutions  submit  implicitly  to  the  guidance  of  their 
confessor,  and  regard  his  injunctions  and  admonitions 
as  "oracles  divine."  To  him  they  resort  in  every 
trifling  difficulty ;  to  him  they  go  with  every  petty 
trouble ;  and  accustomed  to  view  him  as  a  wise  ar- 
biter and  an  infallible  monitor,  no  limit,  at  least,  is 
j)laced  to  their  confidence  and  obedience  until  they  be- 
come the  pitiable  victims  of  their  black-robed  and 
black-hearted  betrayers. 

My  recollections  of  my  novitiate  at  St.  Joseph's  will 
ever  be  associated  with  a  feeling  of  contempt  and  ab- 
horrence for  those  men  who  use  their  advantage  of  rank 
and  position  to  the  basest  ends,  and  with  deep  thank- 
fulness for  my  own  escape  from  their  insidious  snares. 
It  was  a  contemplation  of  the  peril  to  whicli  I  was  ex- 
posed that  first  suggested  the  idea  of  escape,  at  any 
risk,  from  the  institution.  I  could  have  borne  toil, 
privation,  and  bodily  maltreatment  as  the  conse- 
quences of  my  own  rashness  and  ill-advised  imj)etu- 
osity,  but  the  future  wore  too  dark  and  terrible  an  as- 

to  the  setting  of  the  sun,  the  visits  of  these  monkish  confessors  are  the 
objects  looked  for  in  the  morning,  and  remembered  in  the  evening. 
Now  it  is  only  in  human  nature  to  suppose  that,  under  such  circum- 
stances, attachments  may  spring  up  between  the  younger  nuns  and 
the  younger  monks.  It  is  no  unkindness,  it  is  no  scandal  to  say  it — it 
is  only  what  nature  seems  to  dictate.  The  real  unkindness,  the  real 
scandal  is  that  the  Church  of  Rome  interposes  a  law,  and  forbids  the 
consecrating  of  these  attachments  by  the  bonds  of  holy  wedlock." — 
Rev.  Mr.  HoBART  Seymour,  in  a  Lecture  on  "  Convents  or  Nunneries,'^ 
at  Bath,  En.'c,  June  7tL  1852. 


MORALS   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.  14B 

pect,  that  I  sliould  resign  myself  with  quietness  to  its 
liorrors.  Although  the  conversations  and  the  acts 
of  individual  members  of  the  community,  the  secret 
mysteries  of  the  confessional,  and  other  circumstances 
besides,  were  ample  evidence  to  my  own  judgment  of 
the  alarming  position  I  occupied,  yet,  as  it  may  be 
contended  by  those  interested  in  concealing  the  truth 
that  my  mental  vision  was  distorted,  and  that  my 
prejudices  were  too  strong  to  admit  of  a  calm,  dispas- 
sionate induction  from  what  I  saw  and  heard,  I  feel 
most  reluctantly  compelled  to  state  an  incident  con- 
cerning which  there  can  be  no  misconception. 

A  priest,  who  had  been  engaged  in  exercising  his 
pastoral  functions  at  St.  Joseph's,  was  about  to  leave 
the  institution,  and,  as  is  customary,  the  sisters  were 
directed  to  enter  the  room  where  he  was  stationed,  and 
ask  a  blessing  at  his  hand  previous  to  his  departure. 
When  my  turn  came,  I  went  in,  with  downcast  eyes 
and  clasped  hands,  as  required,  and  knelt  to  receive 
the  expected  benediction.  But  instead  of  the  press- 
ure of  his  hand  upon  my  head,  I  felt  the  impression  of 
a  kiss  upon  my  forehead.  Startled  and  confused  by  a 
salutation  so  unexpected  and  inappropriate,  I  stagger- 
ed to  my  feet,  and  ejaculated,  almost  unconsciously, 
the  words,  "Oh!  Father!"  But  before  I  could  re- 
cover my  composure,  seizing  my  wrist  with  his  left 
hand,  and  encircling  my  waist  with  his  right  arm,  he 
drew  me  toward  him,  and  imprinted  several  kisses  on 
my  face  before  I  was  able  to  break  from  his  revolting 
embrace.  Yet  I  was  compelled,  from  prudential  fears 
of  the  consequences,  to  be  silent  respecting  this  insult- 
ing treatment.     What  could  I  do  ?  to  ^hom  should  I 


144  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

apply  for  redress  and  protection  ?  If  I  had  complain- 
ed to  the  mistress  of  novices  or  to  the  Mother  Superi- 
or of  the  outrage  to  which  I  had  been  subjected,  I 
should  have  beenjdenounced  as  a  base  calumniator  of 
the  ' '  holy  father^ "  and  punished  for  the  offense.  There 
was  nothing  left  but  to  wait  in  silence  for  some  other 
means  of  redress. 

'''I must  quit  this 2^lcice  P  These  words  were  now 
continually  in  my  mind.  But  how  ?  was  a  question 
difficult  to  be  answered.  I  could  not  communicate 
with  my  family  through  the  authorities  of  the  institu- 
tion.- This  privilege  had  been  denied  me  before,  and 
I  had  suffered  on  account  of  my  expressed  desire  to 
do  so.  Having  experienced  the  evil  results  of  the 
failure  of  this  first  attempt,  I  feared  to  make  a  second 
effort,  lest  worse  should  follow,  and  a  stricter  surveil- 
lance be  kept  over  me.  I  could  not  procure  the  trans- 
mission of  a  letter  by  means  of  the  boarders,  even  had 
I  been  enabled  to  write  one  without  detection,  for  all 
the  letters  they  send  home  are  examined  and  read. 
This  method  of  communication  had  been  attempted 
by  others,  but  the  plans  were  discovered  and  the  of- 
fending sisters  punished.  A  secret  escape  was  the 
sole  alternative,  and  this  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  ac- 
complish. I  was  fully  aware  of  the  difficulties  in  the 
w^ay,  and  the  fearful  issue  of  a  failure ;  but  this  thought 
only  nerved  me  for  the  trial,  and  led  me  to  use  every 
exertion  that  secresy  and  caution  could  suggest  to  in- 
sure success.  .Having  formed  the  determination,  my 
■first  endeavor  was  to  banish  all  traces  of  nervousness 
and  anxiety  from  my  features,  and  compose  them  into 


MOEALS  AT  ST.  josErn's.  145 

an  expression  of  calmness  and  resignation,  that  no 
mistrust  of  my  intention  might  be  entertained.  This 
effected,  I  patiently  awaited  a  favorable  opportunity  to 
execute  my  design. 

a 


146  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTEE  XXYIII. 

RELATIONS  OF  THE  LAZARIST  PEIESTS  TO  THE  SISTER- 
HOOD. 

In  the  books  of  the  "  Conferences,"  to  which  I  have 
already  referred,  the  founder  directs  that  a  priest  shall 
not  be  permitted  to  enter  the  apartments  of  the  com- 
munity unless  accompanied  by  a  sister.  The  devil, 
he  remarks,  is  always  at  work,  and  even  angels  have 
fallen ;  and  yet  the  novices  are  accustomed  to  sleep 
in  cells  with  curtains  instead  of  doors !  Farther,  it  is 
forbidden  that  a  sister  should  see  a  priest  alone  in  a 
parlor ;  there  must  always  be  two.  Nor  is  it  allowed 
that  she  should  visit  a  priest  alone ;  yet  she  may  re- 
main at  the  confessional  for  any  length  of  time  alone 
with  her  confessor — nay,  she  may  see  him  in  his  own 
room  in  case  of  indisposition.  In  fact,  the  priests  do 
often  enter  the  rooms  of  the  sisters,  and  remain  there 
for  a  considerable  time ;  nor  is  any  one  permitted  to 
open  the  door  (for  the  rooms  of  the  vowed  sisters  have 
doors)  or  enter  the  room  during  their  stay. 

When  the  Father  Superior  enters  the  room  of  the 
Lady  Superior,  should  a  sister  be  present  at  the  time, 
it  is  her  duty  to  withdraw  at  once ;  nor  is  any  one  al- 
lowed to  enter  while  he  remains. 

A  sister  never  enters  the  room  of  the  Father  Supe- 


RELATIONS   OF   THE   LAZAEIST    PRIESTS,  ETC.    147 

rior  so  long  as  there  is  another  sister  in  his  room. 
There  is  one  who  attends  to  his  door,  and  informs  the 
applicant  whether  he  be  engaged.  When  a  sister  is 
particularly  anxious  to  see  him,  she  writes  her  name 
upon  a  slate,  and  is  sent  for  at  his  option. 

Sisters  are  also  advised,  in  the  "  Conferences,"  not 
to  attend  persons  of  their  own  sex  when  solicited  to 
do  so  in  certain  cases  of  sickness  while  on  their  mis- 
sions "in  the  world,"  lest  thej  might  have  bad 
thoughts. 

One  day,  while  on  duty  in  the  room  of  a  professed 
sister,  I  heard  groans  proceeding  from  an  apartment 
nearly  opposite,  and  noticed  the  infirmarian  passing 
up  and  down  before  the  room.  I  was  then  command- 
ed to  close  the  door  opening  into  the  passage,  in  order 
to  prevent  the  sound  from  reaching  a  neighboring  cor- 
ridor, which  led  to  the  building  occupied  by  the  com- 
munity. Having  done  so,  I  returned  to  the  duty  in 
which  I  was  engaged. 

After  a  few  minutes  I  was  called  by  the  infirmarian 
to  the  medicine-room.  She  said  to  me,  "Be  quick, 
and  pour  out  ten  drops  from  that  vial,"  pointing  to  one 
in  the  medicine-case.  In  my  agitation  and  alarm,  in- 
stead of  dropping  the  liquid,  I  poured  it  out  with  a 
trembling  hand — I  knew  not  how  much,  perhaps  a 
tea-spoonful.  With  this  I  was  sent  to  the  sister's 
room,  and  administered  it  as  directed.  The  sister  was 
propped  up  with  pillows,  extending  from  the  shoulder 
downward.  She  was  deadly  pale,  with  dark  circles 
around  the  eyes,  as  I  have  seen  persons  appear  after 
convulsions.  Her  feet  were  resting  against  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  as  if  for  support.     The  infirmarian  soon 


148  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

followed  me  into  the  room,  and  I  saw  no  other  person 
there.  I  retired  at  once,  and  resumed  my  duty  with 
the  sick  sister  in  the  opposite  room.  A  short  time 
after,  I  heard  a  priest's  voice  in  the  apartment  in  ques- 
tion, but  did  not  distinguish  the  conversation.  The 
groans  increased  until  they  became  shrieks,  at  inter- 
vals of  about  ten  minutes,  and  then  more  frequent,  un- 
til almost  continuous,  when  they  ceased  altogether. 

This  happened  in  the  course  of  an  afternoon,  includ- 
ing a  period  of  about  four  hours.  I  left  the  sister's 
room  opposite  about  three  hours  and  a  half  subsequent 
to  my  hearing  the  first  groan,  and  when  in  the  infir- 
mary below  could  plainly  hear  the  shrieks  described. 

I  had  never  seen  this  sister  before,  except  two  or 
three  times  within  a  month  previous  to  this  occurrence, 
when  I  had  noticed  her  accidentally  in  the  same  room 
as  I  passed  the  door.  On  those  occasions  she  was 
sitting  in  a  rocking-chair,  dressed  in  a  loose  wrapper. 
After  this  I  saw  her  occasionally,  at  first  in  bed,  and 
later  in  a  chair.  Shortly  after,  m^-  duties  in  the  in- 
firmary ceased,  having  continued  only  some  seven 
weeks,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  her.  This  took  place 
about  three  months  before  I  left  the  institution ;  after 
this  I  visited  the  infirmary  but  occasionally,  when  sent 
on  transient  duties. 

Shrinking  as  I  do  most  painfully  from  the  state- 
ment of  any  thing  that  may  seem  to  throw  a  shade 
upon  the  perfect  sanctity  of  those  retreats,  where  I 
myself  long  imagined  the  very  embodiment  of  excel- 
lence to  dwell,  the  task  I  have  conscientiously  under- 
taken compels  me  to  withhold  nothing  that  shall  ac- 
quaint my  countrymen  witli  the  reality  of  those  dan- 


RELATIONS    OF   THE    LAZAEIST   PRIESTS,  ETC.    149 

gers  to  which  their  daughters  may  be  exposed  within 
these  guarded  precincts.  It  has  been  my  duty  to  de- 
clare, for  their  warning  and  determent,  some  part  at 
least  of  that  which  I  have  seen  and  heard  as  a  personal 
witness.  Yet  I  can  not  bring  myself  to  recount  in  de- 
tail the  instances  of  undue  familiarity  which  have  fall- 
en under  my  own  notice,  and  the  evidences  of  it  that 
have  forced  themselves  upon  my  own  conviction.  I 
hasten  to  close  what  it  has  been  necessary  to  state  on 
this  subject. 

When  I  first  visited  the  institution,  before  entering 
the  community,  I  had  in  my  possession  a  letter  which 
I  had  been  told  to  deliver  at  once  upon  my  arrival  into 
the  hands  of  the  priest.  Accordingly,  it  being  about 
nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  I  asked  to  see  him.  The 
sister  who  was  present,  raising  her  hands  and  eyes  to 
heaven  in  holy  horror,  exclaimed,  "A  priest  does  not 
remain  here  at  this  hour  of  night — never!" 

After  my  entrance  into  the  community,  as  I  was 
one  day  walking  upon  the  corridor,  I  saw  a  room  ad- 
joining the  priest's  room,  through  a  window  which 
looked  out  upon  the  corridor.  In  that  room  I  saw  a 
bed.  And  I  know  that  a  priest  once  slept  there,  for 
I  heard  it  said  that  it  was  too  cold  for  him  to  come  so 
early  in  the  morning  to  say  first  mass.  I  have  also 
heard  priests  walking  through  the  institution  at  night. 
I  am  convinced,  from  these  and  other  considerations, 
that  priests  do  sleep  there. 

I  was  invited  one  evening  to  go  with  some  six  or 
eight  vowed  sisters  to  a  place  called  the  Grotto.  This 
is  a  spot  surrounded  by  lattice-work,  in  the  centre  of 
which  stands  a  statue  of  the  Virgin.      There  are  seats 


150  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

around  it,  and  a  delicious  spring  of  water  gushes  fortli 
near  Tby.  Soon  after  we  entered,  an  Italian  Lazarist, 
or  jn-iest  of  the  corresponding  institution  of  St.  La- 
zare,*  came  into  our  midst  and  took  a  seat.  The  sisters 
clustered  around  him,  kneeling,  and  conversing  freely 
v/ith  him.  Looking  up  earnestly  into  his  face,  they 
would  exclaim,  "O  father!"  with  a  tone  almost  of 
adoration.  I  know  of  no  words  to  express  the  intens- 
ity of  feeling  thus  manifested,  beaming  from  every 
countenance,  and  exhibited  in  their  actions  ;  fascina- 
tion does  not  seem  strong  enough  to  convey  the  idea. 
Had  the  Savior  himself  been  present  in  person  before 
them,  they  could  hardly  have  shown  more  reverence 
and  love.  Every  soul  appeared  to  gaze  upon  him  with 
its  most  ardent  affection. 

*  The  "  Catholic  Ahnanac"  for  1855,  in  a  list  of  the  religious  insti- 
tutions of  the  archdiocese  of  Baltimore,  illustrates  very  forcibly  and 
pithily,  in  the  following  extracts,  the  connection  between  these  two 
establishments.     We  quote  verbatim  : 

"  St.  Joseph's  Sisterhood,  Emmettsburg,  Md. 

"This  is  the  Mother-House  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  in  the  United 
States. 

"  Very  Rev.  F.  Burlando,  Ecclesiastical  Superior. 
Rev.  H.  Gandolfo,  Chaplain. 

Sr.  M.  Etienne  Hall,  Mother  Superior^ 

"  Congregation  of  the  Mission,  Emmettsburg,  Md. 
"  Very  Rev.  Francis  Burlando,  C.  M. 

Rev.  Hippolytus  Gandolfo,  CM." 


MONTHLY  AND  ANNUAL  RETKEAT.      151 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

MONTHLY  AND  ANNUAL  RETEEAT. 

On  a  particular  Sunday  of  every  niontli  there  is  ob- 
served at  St.  Joseph's  a  "  monthly  retreat''''  That 
day  is  spent  in  prayer  and  meditation,  in  spiritual 
reading,  in  saying  the  litanies  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and 
the  blessed  Virgin,  in  "preparation  for  death,"  and 
other  religious  exercises,  terminating  with  a  "repeti- 
tion of  the  meditations"  made  in  the  course  of  the  day. 

These  meditations  are  divided  into  three  periods. 
The  "repetition"  of  them  consists  in  kneeling  at  the 
centre  of  the  room  before  the  assembled  sisterhood, 
and  repeating  the  thoughts  that  have  occupied  the 
mind  during  each  period  given  to  meditation  through- 
out the  day,  all  of  which  is  rehearsed  for  the  edifica- 
tion of  the  community. 

Those  gifted  with  a  ready  flow  of  language  of  course 
make  beautiful  "repetitions,"  as  they  can  easily  fab- 
ricate them  for  the  occasion ;  but  others  not  so  en- 
dowed will  naturally  blunder  through  the  performance 
in  such  a  manner  as  often  to  excite  the  risible  sensa- 
tions of  their  hearers.  All  aHke,  however,  conclude 
with  the  following  formula :  "I  will  place  my  resolu- 
tions in  the  sacred  heart  of  Jesus,"  or  "  of  Mary  ;"  "I 
will  practice  some  virtue,  and  the  resolutions  I  have 
made  for  future  conduct."    Then  kissing  the  floor,  the 


152 

sister  returns  to  lier  seat.  No  one  is  allowed  to  speak 
during  the  whole  day,  save  as  called  upon  in  this  ex- 
ercise. 

The  "preparation  for  deatli,"  a  formulary  read  aloud 
to  the  community,  is  calculated  to  produce  emotions 
of  intense  grief,  anxiety,  and  distress,  amounting  al- 
most to  derangement.  I  have  seen  sisters  weep  and 
tremble,  and  have  heard  them  groan  as  if  in  the  deep- 
est agony  of  mind.  These  demonstrations  are  consid- 
ered highly  commendable,  and  are  particularly  encour- 
aged. My  own  feehngs  were  never  thus  manifested, 
for  the  reason  that  I  felt  as  though  I  could  welcome 
death  with  all  its  bitterness.  It  had  no  fears  for  me, 
and  especially  since  my  mother's  death  I  have  had 
little  desire  to  live. 

These  readings  commence  as  follows  :  "  Let  me  die, 
O  my  God!  let  me  die!  Let  my  body  be  eaten  by 
worms,  in  punishment  for  my  pride,"  etc.,  etc. 

On  the  days  which  are  thus  occupied  by  special  ob- 
servances, the  regular  work  and  "  duties"  of  the  estab- 
lishment must  be  dispatched  with  great  speed,  to  al- 
low time  for  these  unusual  engagements ;  and  if  not 
accomplished  in  due  season,  they  must  be  finished 
after  night  prayers. 

The  Lady  Superior  does  not  go  into  this  retreat. 
It  is  made  by  the  novices  in  the  novitiate-room,  and 
by  the  professed  in  the  community-room.  No  one 
can  leave  the  room  on  these  occasions  for  any  purpose 
whatsoever. 

The  monthly  exercises  which  I  have  here  described, 
attended  as  they  are  with  such  evidences  of  great  de- 
pression of  spirits,  and  exhausting  as  they  do  the  phys- 


MONTHLY   AND   ANNUAL   EETEEAT.  153 

ical  energies,  arc  not  the  only  seasons  when  these  ef- 
fects are  apparent.  In  the  daily  meditation  similar 
scenes  not  unfrequently  occur.  Upon  one  occasion, 
during  meditation  in  the  chapel,  a  sister,  overcome  by 
her  feelings,  fell  to  the  floor,  and,  striking  against  a 
settee,  cut  her  face  in  a  shocking  manner,  so  that  she 
was  at  once  taken  to  the  infirmary.  Fainting  and 
falling  to  the  floor  are  no  uncommon  events  during  the 
meditation-hour.  When  a  fast-day  happens  upon  the 
day  of  the  monthly  retreat,  the  exercises  prove  espe- 
cially exhausting. 

The  "ANNUAL  eetreat"  is  a  period  lasting  from 
eight  to  ten  days,  and  spent  in  silent  prayer  and  med- 
itation in  the  chapel,  during  which  time  not  a  word  is 
spoken.  Several  priests  are  in  constant  attendance 
to  hear  confessions. 

The  "  meditations"  during  this  retreat  are  very  ex- 
citing. Frequently  will  the  sisters  break  forth  into 
screams  ;  often,  faint  and  worn  out  with  prayer,  vigils, 
and  penances,  many  of  them  become  ill,  and  are  sent 
to  the  infirmary.  One  of  these  meditations,  the  sub- 
ject of  which  was  "  a  sister  in  hell,"  seemed  sufficient 
of  itself  to  cause  insanity.  It  was  awful  in  the  ex- 
treme. It  represented  a  sister  who  had  broken  her 
holy  rules  and  vows,  as  asked  by  the  Lord  after  death 
for  her  habit,  when  she  would  scream  and  say,  "Give 
me  back  my  holy  habit!"  but  would  be  thrown  into 
hell  to  howl  and  rave  with  the  devils. 

During  this  annual  retreat  the  Superior  gives  "  con- 
ferences" in  the  chapel,  consisting  of  discourses  or  lec- 
tures on  such  topics  as  the  three  vows — Poverty, 
■  Chastity,  and  Obedience ;  and  the  three  virtueis  which 
G* 


154  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

are  to  be  practiced  in  connection  witli  tliese — Humil- 
ity, Charity,  and  Simplicity. 

A  general  confession  is  made  in  the  course  of  this 
annual  retreat.  On  this  occasion  the  sisters  have  the 
choice  of  their  confessors,  for  there  are  several  Lazar- 
ist  priests  who  are  invited  to  the  institution  for  that 
purpose.  Sometimes  the  sisters  will  remain  at  the 
confessional  for  two  hours,  and  leave  it  weeping.  I 
have  seen  them  enter  the  confessional  much  agitated ; 
often  they  will  lean  against  the  wall  for  support. 

During  one  of  these  retreats,  which  happened  while 
I  was  in  the  institution,  I  was,  of  course,  obliged  to 
resort  with  the  rest  to  confession.  I  went  into  a  lit- 
tle chapel  on  one  side  of  the  "  sanctuary,"  entered  the 
confessional,  and  knelt  before  the  lattice-work.  The 
priest  drew  the  curtain  that  covered  it  on  the  opposite 
side  ;  then,  walking  to  the  window,  raised  the  curtain, 
so  that  the  light  shone  directly  in  my  face  ;  and  seat- 
ing himself  at  the  confessional,  with  his  head  resting 
on  his  hand,  and  close  to  the  bars,  said,  "  Sister,  draw 
aside  your  veil,  that  I  may  see  Avhether  your  counte- 
nance betokens  sorrow  for  your  sins."  I  complied  re- 
luctantly, and  commenced  the  Gonfiteor — "I  confess," 
etc. 

When  I  had  repeated  this,  he  asked  me  how  old  I 
was ;  how  long  I  had  been  in  the  institution ;  why  I 
entered  it ;  if  I  was  in  love  with  any  one  when  I  en- 
tered ;  if  I  loved  any  one  then,  and  whether  it  was  a 
person  in  the  world,  or  one  consecrated  to  God.  Of 
course  I  was  unprepared  for  questions  of  this  nature, 
and,  instead  of  answering  them,  said,  "Father,  I  am 
ready  for  confession."     He  then  remarked,  "When  I 


MONTHLY  AND  ANNUAL  EETREAT.      155 

entered  the  conimimitj  (that  of  St.  Lazarc),  1  thought 
I  had  done  much  for  God,  but  now  I  lind  that  I  have 
done  nothing."  He  proceeded  to  counsel  me  to  un- 
itate  the  example  of  St.  Theresa.  "  You  must  perse- 
vere," he  added,  "  in  the  service  of  God  ;  it  is  a  blessed 
thing  for  a  young  person  early  to  devote  herself  to  the 
service  of  God,  and  enter  such  an  institution."  He 
bade  me  open  my  heart  to  him,  and  tell  him  every 
thought  and  feeling.  I  should  state  that  this  priest 
was  about  twenty-three  or  four  years  of  age. 

This  conversation  continued  for  a  length  of  time,  and 
I  became  exceedingly  fatigued  in  my  kneeling  posture. 
I  mentioned  this  to  the  priest,  begging  that  he  would 
defer  my  confession  till  some  other  time.  Had  I  not 
done  so,  I  know  not  how  long  he  would  have  kept  me 
in  the  confessional.  When  I  had  promised  him  to 
come  again  on  the  following  morning,  he  permitted  me 
to  leave,  telling  me  that  in  the  mean  time  I  must  think 
of  him  and  pray  for  him.  I  saw  this  priest  but  once 
again  as  he  was  passing  through  the  institution.  One 
evening,  shortly  after  this  incident,  I  met  a  "  vowed 
sister"  walking  upon  the  corridor.  She  inquired  of 
me,  "Have  you  been  to  confession?  and  to  whom?" 
I  told  her;  and  she  then  asked,  "Did  he  put  many 
questions  to  you  ?"  I  replied  that  he  did.  The  next 
day  I  observed  that  she  went  to  confession  to  this 
priest,  and  no  doubt  she  was  highly  pleased,  for  she 
remained  in  the  confessional  three  hours.  Probably 
she  wished  to  go  to  a  person  who  would  address  to 
her  such  questions  as  she  would  take  satisfaction  in 
answering.  This  sister  was  a  French  person,  and  one 
whom  I  had  often  noticed  in  the  corridor  conversing 


156  MISS    BL^NKLEYS    BOOK. 

with  the  priests  ;  she  also  frequently  visited  their  apart- 
ment. I  have  many  times  seen  her  and  others  walk- 
ing in  the  passage  on  the  ground  floor,  as  the  priests 
passed  to  and  from  their  room.  Repeatedly  have  I 
observed  the  vowed  sisters  with  the  priests,  walking 
up  and  down  this  passage,  talking  and  laughing  with 
them,  and  retiring  with  them  to  then-  room.  Some- 
times, when  the  door  chanced  to  open,  I  have  seen  one 
of  them  in  a  kneeling  posture  before  the  priest,  and 
talking  with  him. 

Sometimes  one  or  two  priests  and  several  sisters 
take  supper  together  in  the  community-room,  and.  I 
have  overheard  them  talking  and  laughing  in  a  very 
loud  tone.  On  one  occasion  I  was  asked  by  a  pro- 
fessed sister  to  visit  with  her  the  house  for  the  Laza- 
rists  in  Emmettsburg,  but  I  was  not  permitted  to  go 
near  that  place. 

The  sisters  frequently  went  to  St.  Lazare.  This 
building  belongs  to  the  institution,  and  is  about  a  mile 
distant.  During  vacation  several  of  the  sisters  spend 
their  time  there.  They  have  a  very  beautiful  chapel 
in  the  house,  where  they  perform  their  devotions. 
Novices  are  not  permitted  to  visit  here,  but  the  priests 
are  allowed  this  privilege.  I  visited  the  place  three 
times  in  my  occasional  carriage-drives,  and  once  break- 
fasted there.  I  have  never  heard  that  any  other  nov- 
ice did  so. 

In  addition  to  the  lectui'es  given  by  the  Superior 
in  the  chapel,  conferences  are  also  read  at  these  annual 
retreats  by  a  sister  who  stands  at  a  table.  In  the  re- 
treat which  I  attended  about  three  months  before  my 
escape,  the  Father  Superior,  during  one  of  these  con- 


MONTHLY  AND  ANNUAL  RETREAT.      157 

ferences,  took  occasion  to  expatiate  on  the  troubles 
that  threatened  the  Church,  remarking  that  there  were 
enemies  who  were  endeavoring  to  destroy  its  servants ; 
that  the  Pope  was  fearful  that  the  avowed  opponents 
of  the  Church  were  about  to  make  a  determined  effort 
to  break  down  its  power  and  destroy  its  institutions. 
He  appeared  extremely  solicitous  about  this  danger, 
and  requested  the  prayers  of  the  sisters  that  the  Church 
might  be  protected  from  these  anticipated  efforts.  I 
did  not  then  comprehend  his  meaning,  for  he  seemed 
to  refer  to  a  special  movement  of  which  I  knew  noth- 
ing ;  but,  since  my  departure  from  St.  Joseph's,  I  have 
concluded  that  he  made  allusion  to  the  American  move- 
ment, which  I  have  learned  was  at  that  time  rapidly 
growing  and  gaining  strength  throughout  our  country. 
Nor  do  I  imagine  that  any  other  sister  understood  the 
allusion,  as  we  were  never  permitted  to  see  a  newspa- 
per, except  occasionally  one  lying  on  the  Lady  Supe- 
rior's table,  which  it  was  not  allowed  to  read  or  touch. 
I  have,  however,  seen  the  Lady  Superior  attentively 
reading  newspapers. 

At  the  close  of  the  annual  retreat,  the  sisters  are  in- 
vited to.  come  to  the  Lady  Superior's  room,  where  she 
presents  them  each  with  a  picture ;  to  some  she  gives 
more  than  one,  and  sometimes  a  "Litany"  in  French 
or  English.  From  the  Lady  Superior's  room  they  re- 
pair to  the  Father  Superior,  before  whom  they  kneel, 
and  obtain  his  blessing.  He  questions  them  as  to  the 
manner  in  which  they  have  passed  the  retreat,  their 
feelings,  etc.,  and  encoui*ages  them  to  keep  more  strict- 
ly their  holy  vows  and  rules.  Sometimes,  too,  he  pre- 
sents some  of  them  with  a  picture,  a  rosary,  a  medal, 
or  other  small  gift. 


158  MISS  bunio^ey's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ANOTHER  VICTIM. 

It  was  very  shortly  after  the  annual  retreat,  the 
nature  of  which  I  have  now  explained,  that  a  letter 
was  one  day  received  by  the  Mother  Superior  from  a 
young  lady,  whose  parents  resided  in  Virginia.  As 
she  had  been  a  particular  acquaintance  of  mine,  I  was 
summoned  to  the  Superior's  presence,  and  the  letter 
was  handed  to  me.  It  had  already  been  opened  and 
read,  doubtless  by  the  Superior,  whose  practice  it  was 
to  do  so  whenever  a  letter  was  sent  to  any  member 
of  the  institution.  After  reading  the  contents,  which 
were  addressed  to  me,  inquiring  how  I  liked  the  life 
of  the  sisterhood  ;  if  I  was  happy  ;  what  were  the  du- 
ties ;  whether  I  thought  the  writer  competent  to  per- 
form them  ;  and  expressing  a  desire  to  enter  a  relig- 
ious house,  the  Superior  put  certain  questions  to  me 
respecting  this  young  lady.  She  asked  me  if  her  fa- 
ther and  mother  were  living,  how  many  children  they 
had,  if  they  were  wealthy,  if  she  was  accomplished  and 
pretty,  etc.  These  interrogatories  being  answered  to 
her  satisfaction,  she  directed  me  to  sit  down  and  wiite 
in  reply,  "  Come  and  see."  "  Tell  her,"  she  added, 
"  that  I  invite  her  to  visit  the  institution ;  say  that 
you  are  happy  and  contented  ;"  in  short,  she  dictated 
a  letter  which  I  wrote,  and  handed  to  her  on  the  spot. 


ANOTHER   VICTIM.  lo9 

Three  or  four  weeks  elapsed,  and  I  was  again  sent 
for  to  come  to  the  Superiors  room.  I  observed  on 
entering  that  there  was  a  lady  present ;  but,  not  being 
allowed  to  raise  my  eyes  to  her  countenance,  could  not 
distinguish  her  particularly.  The  Superior  said  to  me 
as  I  advanced,  "  Sister,  do  you  know  this  young 
lady  ?"  I  raised  my  eyes,  and  behold  it  was  my  friend. 
Very  coldly  and  calmly  I  replied,  "Yes,  mother," 
Upon  this  my  friend  sprang  toward  me  with  outstretch- 
ed arms.  I  drew  back,  my  hands  clasped  upon  my 
breast,  according  to  the  rules.  The  Superior  meantime 
closely  watching  me,  I  did  not  allow  my  friend  to  touch 
me,  but  looked  at  her  calmly,  as  though  it  were  no  sur- 
prise or  delight  for  me  to  behold  her  again.  In  all 
this  concealment  and  repression  of  feeling  we  were 
trained;  and  they  who  best  perform  their  part,  and 
exhibit  least  emotion,  are  most  highly  commended, 
while  such  as  are  unable  to  govern  the  natural  out- 
bursts of  affection  are  required  to  do  penance. 

My  friend,  evidently  grieved  and  w^ounded  at  this 
cold  reception,  after  a  short  pause,  asked  me  how  I 
liked  the  religious  life,  and  whether  I  was  happy. 
The  Superior,  too,  put  similar  questions ;  to  all  of 
which  I  dared  make  no  other  reply  than  that  I  was 
delighted  with  the  mode  of  life ;  that  the  duties  were 
easy,  and  such  as  she  could  readily  perform ;  and  that 
I  was  perfectly  happy.  After  this  the  Superior  told 
me  to  leave,  and  I  accordingly  retired  to  my  duties. 

The  next  day,  at  recreation-hour,  I  was  permitted 
to  go  and  see  my  friend,  accompanied  by  an  elder  sis- 
ter, and  I  then  learned  the  state  of  her  mind.  She 
was  in  raptures  with  the  place  ;  and  after  some  con- 


160  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

versation  with  lier,  I  was  sent  for  by  the  Superior  to 
report  these  expressions  of  her  feelings.  After  supper 
I  again  saw  her,  and  we  had  another  conversation  in 
company  with  an  elder  sister ;  and,  as  I  had  been  in- 
structed, I  endeavored  to  increase  her  interest  in  the 
institution. 

On  the  following  day  she  went  into  a  "  religious  re- 
treat." Two  days  subsequent,  while  on  my  way  with 
the  community  to  chapel,  in  my  place  in  the  rank,  or 
order  of  procession,  I  was  sent  for  by  the  Lady  Supe- 
rior. Somewhat  alarmed,  I  hurried  to  her  room,  and 
was  ordered  to  have  the  dinner  of  the  young  lady 
taken  to  her  apartment.  I  was  told  to  give  directions 
for  a  "nice  dinner,"  as,  for  some  reason  which  I  did 
not  learn,  the  young  lady  had  not  dined.  I  waited 
on  her  at  table,  and,  though  she  pressed  me  to  partake, 
I  durst  not  do  so,  as  it  is  against  the  rules  to  eat  with 
a  person  of  "  the  world."  There  was,  besides,  an  offi- 
cer sitting  in  the  apartment  adjoining,  with  the  door 
partly  open :  this  door  had  a  glass  sash,  and  the  offi- 
cer was  doubtless  placed  there  for  the  purpose  of  watch- 
ing me.  The  dinner  was  not  such  as  we  ordinarily 
partook  of,  but  of  a  tempting  character,  such  as  we 
never  saw  in  the  refectory. 

Dinner  over,  I  reported  to  the  Superior  what  had 
been  said  by  my  friend  at  the  table;  among  other  re- 
marks, that  she  "  had  come  prepared  to  enter  the  com- 
munity," which  seemed  greatly  to  gratify  the  Supe- 
rior; and  that  "the  only  tie  that  now  bound  her  to 
the  world  was  her  affisction  for  her  parents,  and  par- 
ticularly for  her  father ;  but  this  difficulty  she  intend- 
ed to  settle  by  ascertaining  from  the  priest  her  true 


ANOTHEE  VICTIM.  161 

vocation."  This  news  greatly  pleased  the  Lady  Supe- 
rior ;  and  it  was  arranged  that  my  friend  should  visit 
the  priest — the  Father  Superior — that  same  afternoon. 
I  was  appointed  to  accompany  her  to  the  presence  of 
the  father,  who  was  duly  informed  of  this  conversa- 
tion ;  and  when  she  made  her  appearance  in  his  room, 
he  seemed  delighted  to  see  her.  He  took  her  hand  as 
I  passed,  and  said,  pointing  to  me,  "You  see  we  never 
shake  hands  with  a  sister." 

I  staid  a  few  moments  in  the  room,  until,  at  a  sig- 
nal from  the  priest,  I  left,  having  first  obtained  his 
blessing.  I  went  to  the  novitiate,  and  there  watched 
the  door  leading  to  the  priest's  room  to  see  my  friend 
come  out.  I  did  so,  not  by  order  from  the  Superior, 
but  from  my  own  anxiety  to  know  whether,  after  this 
interview,  she  would  still  remain  determined  to  enter 
the  house,  and  with  but  a  faint  hope  that  she  might 
not  be  prevailed  upon  to  do  so.  From  that  interview^ 
however,  she  went  directly  to  her  own  room.  During 
recreation  after  supper,  I  was  sent  to  visit  her  with  an 
ejder  sister,  being  directed  to  conduct  her  over  the 
beautiful  grounds  of  the  Superior  to  a  fine  grove  of 
trees,  in  the  midst  of  which  there  is  a  mound  covered 
with  shrubbery.  Upon  this  mound  stands  a  very 
large  cross,  surrounded  by  symbols  of  the  passion — 
the  serpent,  the  ladder,  the  hammer,  the  sponge,  the 
spear,  the  crown  of  thorns,  the  scourge,  etc.  This 
last  was  painted  to  represent  blood  upon  it.  At  the 
foot  of  the  cross  there  was  a  statue  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
upon  which  the  sisters,  when  permitted  to  walk  over 
the  grounds,  sometimes  put  wreaths  of  flowers,  and  be- 
fore which  they  make  their  orisons.     The  stillness  and 


162  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

seclusion  of  the  spot,  the  perfume  of  flowers,  the  balmy 
atmosphere,  the  solemn  and  holy  calm,  gave  to  this 
place  the  charm  of  an  earthly  paradise.  It  is  called 
"  Otir  Lady  of  the  Fields  ;"  and  hither  the  priests  fre- 
quently resort  to  sit  in  quiet,  decorating  the  statue,  or 
employing  themselves  as  they  please. 

On  the  next  evening  I  was  again  called  to  the  Lady 
Superior's  room.  My  friend  was  there,  clothed  in  a 
black  dress,  with  the  officers  of  the  institution  stand- 
ing around  her.  The  Superior  commanded  me  to  lead 
her  to  the  novitiate  and  introduce  her  to  the  mistress 
of  novices,  whom  she  had  not  yet  seen.  It  is  usually 
the  duty  of  an  officer  to  take  a  postulant  into  the  no- 
vitiate, but  an  exception  was  made  in  this  instance. 
My  friend  was  much  agitated.  I  left  her  with  the 
mistress  of  novices,  to  whom  I  communicated  my  er- 
rand. 

Her  first  duties  were  in  the  refectory.  Often  have 
I  seen  her  carrying  plates  and  other  crockery  on  a  large 
"  round" — a  circular  piece  of  wood  with  a  handle — to 
and  from  the  basement-room  below.  Once  I  saw  her 
crying  with  the  great  exertion  required  in  this  duty, 
and  the  pain  it  occasioned  her. 

After  this  I  frequently  saw  her  in  tears,  and  some- 
times going  in  that  condition  to  the  Father  Superior's 
room.  I  noticed  that  she  looked  delicate,  and  wonder- 
fully changed  in  appearance.  She  used  to  be  called 
upon  to  read  aloud  on  successive  days,  for  a  week  at  a 
time,  during  dinner  and  supper,  out  of  the  Lives  of  the 
Saints,  the  Roman  Martyrology,  and  other  books — a 
duty  which  the  mistress  of  novices,  who  never  enter- 
tained any  special  regard  for  me,  desired  me  to  per- 


ANOTHER   VICTIM.  163 

form,  but  the  Superior  would  not  indulge  lier  in  this 
wish.  At  other  times,  and  in  addition  to  this  duty, 
she  was  obliged  to  wait  upon  the  table.  Once  she 
was  sent  to  the  infirmary  in  consequence  of  a  cold 
taken  from  sleeping  in  the  dormitory  without  sufficient 
covering  in  winter,  and  when  I  left  she  was  again 
there. 


164 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

TOKENS   OF   SISTEELY  EEGAED. 

It  will  be  readily  imagined  tliat  the  unnatural  state 
of  tilings  prevailing  under  tlie  conventual  system  is 
calculated  rather  to  promote  than  j)i^event  the  rising 
of  those  petty  jealousies  and  dislikes  which  must  be 
incidental  to  such  an  association.  Without  the  strong 
ties  of  kindred  or  friendship  to  bind  them  one  to  an- 
other, it  is  not  likely  that  the  poor  prisoners  of  a  con- 
vent will  spend  in  perfect  harmony  the  tedious  hours 
and  years  of  their  compulsory  seclusion.  A  single  in- 
cident may  let  the  reader  into  the  realities  of  that  rela- 
tionship which  Rome  pretends  to  constitute  among  the 
unhappy  inmates  of  a  nunnery,  and  which  she  desig- 
nates by  the  deceptive  name  of  "  sisterhood." 

Having  been  sent  one  evening  to  work  in  the  board- 
ers' refectory,  instead  of  that  of  the  sisterhood,  while 
standing  near  one  of  the  tables  at  which  the  boarders 
were  seated,  I  took  up  a  basket  and  carried  it  to  the 
scullery  for  some  bread.  Scarcely  had  I  entered  the 
room  and  handed  the  basket  to  the  sister  who  had 
charge  of  the  department,  when  I  felt  myself  seized 
by  the  arm,  and,  looking  round,  saw  the  angry  counte- 
nance of  the  sister  who  presided  at  the  boarders'  table. 
She  asked  me,  in  a  passionate  tone,  by  whose  authority 


TOKENS    OF   SISTERLY   EEGAED.  1G5 

I  had  taken  that  basket  for  bread,  and  whether  I  had 
been  appointed  waiter  by  the  Superior.  I  answered 
no,  and  that  I  would  not  have  taken  the  basket  had 
she  not  ordered  mc,  the  night  before,  to  do  so  when  she 
had  said  that  bread  was  wanting  upon  the  table. 

The  sister  told  nie  that  I  had  no  authority  of  the 
kind,  and  that  she  would  report  me  to  the  Superior, 
and  have  me  brought  before  "  the  council."  I  replied 
that  I  was  not  conscious  of  having  done  wrong ;  but 
she  followed  me  into  the  porch,  talking  in  a  lou^d  and 
angry  tone.  I  dreaded  the  "  sacred  council,"  and  went 
at  once  to  the  novitiate,  and  told  the  mistress  of  nov- 
ices what  had  just  occurred.  She  answered  me  that  I 
had  "many  a  cross  to  bear." 

That  evening,  while  on  the  way  to  my  cell,  I  no- 
ticed in  one  of  the  cloisters  a  sister  leaning  against 
the  wall.  She  beckoned  me  to  her,  and  then  made  a 
motion  for  me  to  follow  her.  I  soon  found  it  was  the 
sister  who  had  ill-treated  me  in  the  refectory.  I  be- 
came alarmed,  as  she  was  leading  me  to  a  balcony  be- 
yond the  cells.  I  whispered  that  I  must  go  to  my 
cell — that  I  would  be  missed.  By  this  time  we  had 
reached  the  balcony.  She  insisted  that  I  should  wait, 
closing,  at  the  same  time,  the  door  after  us.  Just 
then,  hearing  a  noise  near  by,  as  if  some  one  was 
crossing  the  porch  to  the  infirmary,  we  walked  on  a 
few  steps  to  escape  observation.  The  sister  then  fell 
on  her  knees,  asking  my  forgiveness  for  having  abused 
me,  and  begging  me  not  to  speak  of  what  had  occurred 
should  I  have  an' interview  with  the  Superior  priest. 
I  would  here  state  that,  in  those  intervievv^s,  a  sister  is 
questioned  as  to  any  difficulties  she  may  have  had 


166  Mis«  bunkley's  book. 

with  others  in  the  communitj.     I  promised  secresy, 
and  went  to  my  cell. 

Wearied  and  exhausted  with  my  duties  in  the  acad- 
emy, besides  my  evening  work,  an  irresistible  oppres- 
sion of  soul  weighing  down  my  powers  of  mind  and 
body,  I  tried  in  vain  to  sleep.  I  thought  of  my  ill 
health,  caused  by  the  laborious  exercises  I  had  to  per- 
form, and  the  sufferings  and  sorrows  I  had  undergone 
since  my  reception  in  the  community.  I  looked  out 
upon  the  future  :  it  appeared  to  stretch  before  me,  even 
into  eternity,  a  drear  path  on  which  no  beam  of  sun- 
light would  fall  to  cheer,  and  in  which  no  voice  of  kin- 
dred love  would  breathe  its  music  of  consolation  to  my 
heart.  I  sighed  for  my  home.  In  desolation  of  spirit, 
I  mourned  for  its  remembered  love.  But  the  fearful 
consciousness  came  to  me  that  I  was  severed  eternal- 
ly from  all  that  made  life  dear.  At  length  I  arose, 
dressed,  and  groped  my  way  along  the  cloister  leading 
to  the  choir,  and  from  thence  down  the  narrow  flight 
of  stairs  into  the  chapeL  It  was  dark,  save  for  the  few 
rays  that  streamed  from  the  solitary  light  which  burned 
dimly  in  the  sanctuary.  Kneeling  before  the  altar,  I 
fastened  my  eyes  upon  the  crucifix  above  it.  Long 
and  earnestly  I  gazed,  but  the  feelings  that  filled  my 
soul  were  too  deep  to  find  repose  in  the  contemplation 
of  any  material  object.  I  bowed  my  head  upon  the 
railing,  and  wept.  Ere  long,  the  image  of  Him  who  had 
suffered  arose  to  my  view ;  the  pure  and  holy  Savior 
of  the  world,  w^hose  mild,  benignant  eyes,  in  their  pity- 
ing tenderness,  penetrated  to  the  depths  of  my  wretch- 
ed heart,  and  shed  a  blessed  hope  upon  its  gloom. 
I  prayed — prayed  earnestly,  and  from  the  heart ;  my 


TOKENS   OF   SISTERLY   REaAIlD.  167 

desires  flowed  from  its  inmost  depths.  "With  stream- 
ing eyes  and  unutterable  groans,  I  asked  Him,  the  Sav- 
ior of  the  world,  to  deliver  me  from  this  prison,  this  den 
of  cruelty  and  hypocrisy.  I  believe  it  to  be  the  only 
time  I  j)rayed  from  my  heart  while  in  the  institution. 

With  this  outburst  of  emotion,  this  pouring  forth  of 
my  grief  to  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  I  found  relief, 
and  became  composed  and  calm. 

I  know  not  how  long  I  had  been  keeeling,  when  I 
was  startled  by  deep-drawn  sighs  and  sobs,  proceed- 
ing from  the  direction  of  the  *' seven  dolors"  altar,* 
which  is  at  one  side  of  the  chapel  door,  under  the 
choir.  Fearing  observation,  I  arose,  and  hastening 
down  one  side  of  the  chapel,  reached  the  stairs  leading 
to  the  choir.  As  I  entered  the  choir,  I  saw  a  dark 
figure  glide  past  me,  and  go  into  a  small  passage  be- 
hind the  organ.  Probably  this  person  was  in  search 
of  the  poor  heart-broken  creature  whom  I  had  left 
weeping  so  bitterly  at  the  foot  of  the  "seven  dolors" 
altar.  Fortunately  I  escaped  notice,  and,  softly  clos- 
ing the  door  behind  me,  reached  my  cell  just  before 
the  bell  rang  for  morning  prayers  in  the  chapel. 

*  An  altar,  that  is,  dedicated  to  the  *'  seven  sorrows"  of  the  Virgin 
Mary — "  septem  dolores  " 


168  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 

CRUELTIES     INFLICTED. 

So  far  as  my  own  observation  and  experience  can 
attest,  nothing  is  more  mistaken  than  the  notion  which 
has  led  so  many  to  the  cloisters,  namely,  that  the  holy 
and  religious  life  of  the  mm,  or,  as  at  St.  Joseph's,  of 
the  Sister  of  Charity,  delivers  her  from  the  liability 
to  fall  into  the  grosser  passions  of  the  world,  such  as 
envy,  malice,  hatred,  jealousy,  anger,  passionate  love, 
etc.  These  evil  susceptibilities  of  human  frailty  exist 
in  their  fullest  perfection  and  development  among  the 
inmates  of  the  convent. 

The  even  rule  of  justice  is  not  more  rigorously  car- 
ried out  there  than  among  men  in  general,  nor  do  the 
heavenly  dictates  of  pure  charity  ahvays  animate  and 
control  the  Superiors  of  that  "house  of  charity,"  but 
partiality,  favoritism,  prejudice,  and  cruelty  exhibit 
their  baleful  influence  throughout  the  community.  Of 
this,  if  it  were  necessary,  numerous  instances  might  be 
recounted — acts  so  oppressive  and  severe  that  I  verily 
believe  they  were  performed  with  the  purpose  of  de- 
stroying the  health,  as  well  as  of  cowing  the  spirit. 
If  in  this  suspicion  I  do  WTong  to  the  perpetrators  of 
those  acts,  God,  who  alone  reads  the  heart,  and  knows 
what  my  sufferings  have  been,  w^ill,  I  trust,  forgive  me. 


CRUELTIES    INFLICTED.  169 

It  would  be  natural  to  expect  that  a  system  of  fa- 
voritism would  extensively  prevail  within  the  walls  of 
such  an  institution,  not  only  as  regards  the  Mother 
Superior,  who  dispenses  her  indulgence  and  partiality 
among  those  upon  whom  she  can  rely,  or  whom  she 
wishes  to  attach  to  herself,  but  also  with  respect  to 
the  priests  and  certain  members  of  the  community. 
Jealousy  also  exerts  a  potent  sway  throughout  the 
sisterhood.  It  is  no  rare  thing  to  witness  the  features 
of  a  beautiful  girl  convulsed  and  distorted  with  passion 
when  she  passes  a  rival,  who  exults  for  a  season  in  the 
triumph  she  has  achieved,  but  who,  poor  deluded  vic- 
tim !  soon  is  brought  to  experience  like  sensations  of 
anger  and  thirst  for  revenge  upon  her  own  desertion  for 
more  attractive  objects  of  priestly  favor  and  desire. 

Here  I  shall  mention  occurrences  as  they  come  up 
to  my  remembrance,  with  a  view  to  illustrate  the  pow- 
er and  disposition  of  those  who  exercise  authority  in 
the  institution  to  annoy  and  oppress  such  individuals 
as  may  have  displeased  them. 

The  intensity  of  these  passions  can  be  only  aug- 
mented by  the  necessity  of  keeping  them  pent  up  and 
disguised  from  perception  and  discovery,  or  by  their 
uncontrolled  violence  among  those  whose  rank  elevates 
them  above  the  need  of  disguise.  When  occasionally 
permitted  to  manifest  themselves  at  a  fitting  opportu- 
nity, they  burst  forth  in  redoubled  vehemence.  I  my- 
self have  frequently  been  made  the  subject  of  these 
exhibitions.  Eegarded  from  the  outset  with  jealousy 
as  ''thQj?et  Josephine,"  I  was  visited  with  every  an- 
noyance that  could  be  devised  by  certain  individuals 
in  the  community.  At  one  time,  on  the  pretense  that 
II 


iVO  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

I  liad  knelt  and  kissed  the  floor  too  near  the  door  in 
the  novitiate,  I  was  reported  by  a  sister  to  the  mistress 
of  novices,  who  made  me  do  penance  by  kneeling  be- 
fore the  altar  until  permission  should  be  given  me  to 
leave,  and  I  was  kept  in  that  painful  posture  nearly 
three  hours.  Another  time,  as  I  was  passing  by  the 
side  of  another  sister  through  a  doorway,  she  thrust 
me  violently  against  the  jamb,  pressing  with  her  whole 
strength  upon  me,  and  with  such  force  as  to  break  my 
beads  to  pieces,  the  crucifix  and  other  pieces  falling  to 
the  floor,  scattered  in  every  direction.  In  a  third  in- 
stance, I  found  myself  watched  and  persecuted  with- 
out intermission  by  a  sister  who  had  charge  of  the 
sewing.  She  would  consequently  assign  to  me  the 
worst  and  most  difficult  work  she  could  find,  telling 
me  to  perform  it  in  a  certain  way ;  then,  when  done, 
she  would  say  it  was  wrong,  and  order  me  to  pick  it 
out  and  do  it  over  in  some  other  way.  This  accom- 
plished, she  would  finally  report  me  for  doing  it  im- 
properly, and  tell  falsehoods  to  substantiate  the  accu- 
sation. 

One  morning,  a  slip  of  paper,  containing  the  names 
of  those  who  had  been  called  upon  to  make  the  "rep- 
etition" of  their  meditations,  was  found  upon  the  table, 
torn  across  the  middle.  A  sister  came  to  me  and  said, 
"You  tore  that  piece  of  paper;  you  had  no  right  to 
do  so  ;  I  will  report  you."  I  denied  the  charge,  know- 
ing nothing  of  the  deed,  and  not  having  been  near  the 
table.  She  insisted  on  criminating  me,  and  reported 
me  accordingly. 

Going  up  stairs  one  evening  to  my  cell,  I  discover- 
ed something  like  a  heap  of  clothes  lying  on  one  of  tlic 


CEUELTIES    INFLICTED.  171 

broad  steps ;  I  heard,  also,  moans  and  lamentations. 
Tliere  was  but  one  lamp  burning  very  dimly  in  the 
cloister,  and  putting  out  my  foot  to  ascertain  what  the 
object  before  me  was,  I  discovered  it  to  be  sister  J. 
^- — -^  ^^  ^^^(^<^  memory.  Giving  her  no  very  gentle 
kick  by  way  of  retaliation,  I  passed  on  to  my  cell. 
She  was  indeed  ill,  as  I  afterward  learned,  and  needed 
commiseration  ;  but  the  feeling  was  one  which  had  not 
obtained  much  cultivation  in  my  breast  since  entering 
the  institution,  where  it  was  very  seldom  exercised  by 
others. 

About  a  quarter  after  nine  o'clock  one  very  cold 
evening,  the  mistress  of  novices  came  to  me  in  a  state 
of  unusual  excitement,  and  said,  "  Sister  Josephine,  I 
want  you  to  go  to  the  chapel,  and  see  if  all  the  doors 
are  closed,  and  if  every  thing  is  right  there,  and  if 
nothing  is  missing  about  the  altar."      To  do  this,  I 
would  have  to  grope  my  way  through  a  dark  passage^ 
m  the  basement  to  the  stairs  leading  up  to  the  chapel. 
Somewhat  terrified  at  the  thought  of  performing  this 
errand  alone,  I  obeyed  nevertheless.     On  reaching  the 
lobby  that  led  into  the  church,  I  found  the  inner  door 
open.     I  walked  slowly  to  the  door,  and  looked  into 
the  church,  when  I  heard  a  noise  like  the  sullen  growl 
of  a  dog,  and  a  ratthng  as  of  a  chain ;  and  by  the  dim 
light  of  the  lamp  before  the  altar,  I  saw  a  dark  form 
before  the  altar  of  the  "  seven  dolors."     I  ventured  to 
approach,  and  found  it  was  a  member  of  the  commu- 
nity;  who,  I  knew  not  then,  nor  have  I  since  learned ; 
but  it  was  one  whom  I  have  seen  at  other  times.     She 
was  old  and  decrepit,  and  nearly  blind,  and  used  to 
go,  about  that  hour  of  the  night,  to  pray  in  the  chapel 


172  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

and  say  lier  rosary.  She  always  carried  her  books 
with  her,  wrapped  in  a  yellow  pocket-handkerchief, 
though  she  could  not  see  to  read. 

Not  observing  any  thing  else  of  an  unusual  charac- 
ter in  the  chapel,  I  turned  to  go  out,  groping  my  way 
back.  I  closed  the  door  after  nie,  and  reached  the 
brick  corridor.  When  near  the  statue  of  St.  Vincent, 
by  a  light  in  the  novitiate  I  could  see  the  mistress  of 
novices  coming  out  of  that  room,  and  approaching  the 
spot  where  I  stood.  Though  I  saw  her,  she  could  not 
see  me.  At  once  I  determined  to  frighten  her,  in  re- 
turn for  sending  me  upon  that  errand.  She  was  walk- 
ing very  lightly,  as  though  in  fear  of  something.  I 
stationed  myself  on  one  side  of  the  statue,  and,  as  she 
drew  near  me,  rushed  out  against  her,  and  crowded 
her  ao-ainst  the  stone  wall  on  the  outer  side.      She  ut- 

o 

tered  a  cry  of  terror,  and  I  fled  rapidly  down  the  cor- 
ridor, and  thence  to  my  cell. 

Although  the  mistress  of  novices  seemed  to  enter- 
tain an  aversion  for  me,  yet  the  Mother  Superior  treat- 
ed me  at  times  in  a  very  different  manner,  showing  me 
marked  favor,  and  this  may  have  instigated  the  hatred 
manifested  toward  me  by  the  former. 

I  was  several  times  sent  for  by  the  Lady  Superior 
to  accompany  her  as  -a  companion  in  her  drives.  On 
these  occasions  she  had  an  attendant  in  the  carriage 
and  a  colored  driver  on  the  box.  Once  or  twice  we 
passed  through  the  town  of  Emmettsburg,  but  I  was 
not  privileged  to  look  out  of  the  carriage,  which  was  a 
close  one,  and  was  directed  to  keep  my  eyes  cast  down. 
The  impossibility  of  an  escape  at  such  times  will  be 
apparent.     The  town  of  Emmettsburg  is  chiefly  Eo- 


CRUELTIES    INFLICTED.  173 

man  Catholic ;  many  of  its  inhabitants  are  dependent 
on  the  institution  for  support.  The  Lady  Superior  is 
a  great  favorite  among  them.  She  did  not  stop  any 
where  to  make  visits  on  these  occasions.  An  attempt 
to  leave  the  carriage  would  not  only  have  proved  use- 
less at  the  time,  but  would  have  subjected  me  to  se- 
vere punishment,  and  exposed  me  to  closer  confine- 
ment. We  wore,  in  driving  out,  the  habit  usually 
worn  by  the  community.  My  place  was  at  the  Supe- 
rior's side  on  the  back  seat,  the  front  seat  being  occu- 
pied by  the  other  sister  or  attendant  accompanying  us. 
We-  entered  the  carriage  from  the  Superior's  room, 
near  which  it  had  been  driven  up  to  an  inner  gate 
situated  in  a  wall  between  two  buildings;  through 
this  gate  we  passed  into  the  carriage,  and  there  we 
left  it  on  our  return.  I  was  never  permitted  to  leave 
the  Superior's  side  during  this  time. 

For  these  marks  of  favor  bestowed  by  the  Lady 
Superior  I  have  noticed  that  the  jealousy  of  some  was 
awakened,  as  also  when  a  medal  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
called  the  "  medal  of  the  immaculate  conception,"  was 
presented  to  me  by  a  priest.  This  medal  was  placed 
upon  my  beads,  and  thus  worn  in  sight ;  and  the  sis- 
ters would  say,  as  I  passed  them,  "  The  Superior's 
pet ;  the  priests'  pet ;  I  know  where  that  came  from," 
etc.  They  would  take  hold  of  the  medal  and  exam- 
ine the  inscription,  which  read  as  follows,  in  French : 
"O  Mary,  conceived  without  sin,  pray  for  us,  who  have 
recourse  to  thee." 

This  medal,  I  may  state,  was  the  second  of  the  kind 
presented  in  the  institution.  It  was  made,  I  think,  of 
gilded  brass.     The  first  one  was  given  to  a  novice 


174  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

who  had  been  converted  to  the  Catholic  persuasion, 
and  was  older  than  myself  in  that  faith.  Many  of  the 
sisters  showed  evident  signs  of  jealousy  toward  her, 
which  I  observed  the  more,  perhaps,  from  being  on 
the  alert  Avlien  placed  in  the  same  category,  and  made 
the  object  of  similar  remarks,  looks,  and  actions,  small 
in  themselves,  but  indicative  of  spiteful  feeling. 

Several  of  the  vowed  sisters  wear  a  medal  of  St. 
Dominic,  the  virtues  of  which  are  said  to  shield  the 
wearer  from  sickness,  peril,  and  other  injuries.  It  is 
worn  as  a  charm  to  secure  this  protection.  The  in- 
scription is  in  four  letters,  with  a  cross,  the  meaning 
of  which  I  did  not  know,  nor  did  any  of  the  sisters 
within  my  knowledge.  These  medals  were  given  by 
the  Superior  as  tokens  of  regard. 


TRIAL  OF  MY  YOCATION.  175 


CHAPTER  XXXin. 

TEIAL    OF    MY    VOCATION. 

It  was  about  two  months  previous  to  my  escape 
from  the  institution,  when,  entering  the  corridor  one 
day  on  my  way  to  the  chapel,  I  observed  a  spy  who 
had  been  placed  there  to  watch  those  who  were  going 
thither.  As  I  approached,  she  rushed  toward  me,  and 
pinching  me  by  the  arm,  she  said,  hissing  through  her 
closed  teeth,  "  Didn't  you  hear  the  bell  ?"  Though  it 
was  silence-hour,  I  answered  her,  "  Yes,  I  heard  the 
bell."  This  ofFense  was  reported,  and  I  was  punished 
for  it.  I  supposed  the  sister  to  be  jealous  of  me,  but 
for  what  cause  I  knew  not. 

At  another  time — it  was  on  Sunday,  at  the  close 
of  the  silence-hour,  and  the  bell  was  ringing  for  ves- 
pers— an  act  of  cruelty  was  perpetrated  toward  me, 
which  likewise  I  have  been  unable  to  account  for. 
The  sisters  had  formed  the  rank  to  proceed  to  chapel, 
and  I  was  in  the  rear.  The  mistress  of  novices  came 
forward,  and  struck  me  upon  the  forehead  with  her 
clenched  fist.  I  looked  with  amazement  into  her  face, 
but  durst  not  speak,  as  it  was  a  season  of  strict  si- 
lence. She  bade  me  keep  my  eyes  down,  at  the  same 
time  repeating  the  blow ;  then  catching  hold  of  the 
ends  of  my  black  silk  "  capot,"  which  were  tied  loose- 


176  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

Ij  under  my  chin,  slie  drew  tliem  so  tightly  around 
my  throat  as  for  a  moment  to  deprive  me  of  breath. 
I  struggled  to  get  free,  hut  recent  illness  had  rendered 
me  very  weak.  I  then  fell  on  my  knees  before  her, 
and  uttered  a  loud  scream,  for  I  began  to  fear  she 
would  take  my  life.  Tliere  was  no  one  to  help  me. 
The  last  novice  who  had  passed  through  the  door,  in 
the  rank,  did  not  dare  to  turn  and  see  what  had  occa- 
sioned the  scream. 

When  I  could  speak  I  begged  her  to  spare  my  life, 
and  asked  what  I  had  done  to  merit  such  treatment. 
She  answered  not  a  word,  but  dragged  me  across  the 
novitiate  to  the  passage  beyond,  loosening  and  draw- 
ing alternately -the  ends  of  my  "capot."  As  soon  as 
she  released  her  grasp  I  arose,  but  was  forced  to  cling 
to  the  raiHng  of  the  stairs  for  support. 

She  then  said  to  me,  ''J  did  not  tJmik  you  icould 
talce  it  so  ivell.^^  I  begged  her  again  to  tell  me  what 
I  had  done,  but  she  did  not  reply.  I  told  her  that  I 
would  go  to  the  priest's  room,  and  see  the  Superior 
about  it ;  when  she  rushed  toward  me  again,  and  tak- 
ing me  by  the  arm,  shook  me  violently,  saying,  "  Go 
if  you  dare,  and  I  will  follow  you."  She  then  order- 
ed me  to  the  chapel,  where  all  the  community  had  by 
this  time  assembled  for  prayers. 

Trembling  and  weeping,  I  obeyed ;  and  after  serv- 
ice I  spoke  to  the  ]\Iother  Superior,  but  could  obtain 
no  satisfaction  from  her.  Shortly  after,  I  saw  the  Su- 
perior, and  told  him  my  trouble.  Patting  me  on  the 
head,  he  said,  "  I  must  not  mind  it ;  it  was  only  a 
trial  of  my  vocation — a  trial  sent  from  God ;  T  should 
like  the  life  after  a  while  ;"  and  thus,  while  he  endeav- 


TRIAL   OP   MY    VOCATION.  177 

ored  to  soothe  my  wounded  feelings,  he  justified  the 
act. 

I  have  said  that  I  had  reason  from  the  first  to  re- 
gard mysehf  as  an  object  of  peculiar  hatred  on  the  part 
of  the  mistress  of  novices,  and  I  may  here  remark  that 
she  was  of  foreign  birth,  very  astute  in  her  perceptions, 
keen,  shrewd,  and  penetrating,  and  had  doubtless  dis- 
cerned, or  tliought  she  discerned,  in  my  character  a 
trait  of  firmness  amounting  to  obstinacy,  which  would 
develop  itself  whenever  I  should  be  convinced  of  the 
duplicity  practiced  in  that  institution,  and  therefore  I 
would  never  be  a  reliable  "  Sister  of  Charity." 

The  Lady  Superior,  a  perfect  lady  in  her  deport- 
ment, and  possessed  of  a  powerful  intellect  and  a  pro- 
found knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  mild,  bland,  and, 
withal,  very  discriminating,  I  have  reason  to  believe 
had  not  so  read  my  character,  but  persuaded  herself 
that  I  would  yet  become  a  willing  and  perfectly  obe- 
dient "  daughter  of  St.Yincent." 
H2 


178  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXXiy. 

HUMILITY. 

I  WAS  ordered  one  day  by  an  officer  of  tlie  institu- 
tion to  scrub  some  stains  from  tlie  floor  of  the  porch, 
where  grease  had  been  accidentally  spilled  by  a  sister. 
The  day  was  intensely  cold,  and  at  first  I  was  in- 
clined to  refuse ;  but  the  order  being  reiterated  in  an 
authoritative  tone,  I  dared  not  do  so.  Frequently 
have  I  seen  the  blood  oozing  from  the  chapped  hands 
of  those  engaged  in  laborious  duties  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  such  a  want  of  "humil- 
ity"* on  my  part  that  the  mistress  of  novices  once  re- 
marked to  me  she  wished  I  had  been  in  the  commu- 
nity during  the  life  of  Sister  Daserai,  who  had  died  a 
short  time  before  my  entrance,  and  whose  grave  was 
yet  fresh  in  the  cemetery.  This  person  was  a  native 
of  France,  the  daughter  of  a  marquis,  and  is  said  to 
have  been  very  beautiful,  of  a  noble  and  commanding 
appearance.  She  was  dressed,  on  her  arrival,  in  black, 
having  been  but  a  short  time  a  widow.     Though  per- 

*  How  strikingly  is  this  false  sentiment  rebuked  in  those  prophetic 
words  of  the  apostle,  where  he  condemns  those  things  ^'ivhich  have 
indeed  a  show  of  wisdom  in  will-ivorship,  and  humility,  and  neglecting 
of  the  body ;  not  in  any  honor,  to  the  satisfying  of  the  flesh." — Col., 
ii.,  23. 


HIBIILITY.  179 

suaded  to  enter  St.  Joseph's,  she  would  not  at  first 
comply  with  the  rules  of  the  community,  which  were 
not  strictly  enforced  by  the  officers  in  her  case,  owing 
to  the  high  station  she  had  occupied  in  society,  and 
her  great  wealth.  She  could  not  hear  the  idea  of 
drinking  out  of  a  tin  cup,  or  -of  washing  her  hands  in 
a  tin  basin,  and  positively  refused  to  do  so.  Her 
arms,  from  unaccustomed  exposure,  having  become 
rough,  she  would  often  endeavor  to  hide  them  with 
her  hands  and  sleeves. 

The  Superior,  seeing  that  this  sister  lacked  "hu- 
mility," determined  to  set  about  humbling  her  pride. 
She  was  assigned  the  most  laborious  work  in  the  house. 
In  exchange  for  the  silk  dress  she  wore  on  entering, 
a  coarse,  patched  habit  was  given  her.  Soon,  finding 
that  her  will  was  held  in  subjection,  and  that  she  must 
renounce  it  entirely,  she  became  convinced  "that  Al- 
mighty God  would  be  pleased  with  her  spirit  of  humil- 
ity," and  no  longer  refused  to  comply  with  the  wishes 
of  her  superiors. 

Her  duties  were  increased  daily,  and  were  performed 
to  a  gTcater  extent  even  than  required.  She  would 
scrub  the  floor  until  the  blood  streamed  from  her 
hands,  and  would  say  to  a  sister  who  chanced  to  be 
passing  by,  "  See  the  blood  streaming  fi'om  my  hands 
— it  is  all  for  our  Lord."  Her  mind  was  in  such  a 
state  that  she  believed  every  untoward  event  to  hap- 
pen by  the  will  of  God.  Should  a  fly  alight  on  the 
bread,  or  the  molasses,  or  the  soup  she  was  eating, 
she  would  not  brush  it  away,  but  would  eat  it,  because 
she  thought  such  to  be  God's  will.  While  at  her  du- 
ties she  was  constantly  saying  her  prayers,  making 


180  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

aspirations,  fasting,  etc.  "  She  lost  lier  health,"  said 
the  mistress  of  novices  to  me,  "because  the  Lord 
loved  her,  and  wished  to  take  her  to  himself." 

Often  would  she  rise  at  midnight  to  pray,  and  pass 
the  entire  night  at  her  devotions.  If  a  member  of  the 
community  spoke  to  her,  she  would  utter  no  reply. 
When  taken  ill  and  sent  to  the  infirmary,  she  refused 
to  take  the  medicine  given  her,  and  requested  to  be 
put  on  duty  there.  Work  was  assigned  her,  which 
was  faithfully  performed,  as  the  mistress  of  novices 
said,  "in  a  spirit  of  mortification  and  penance." 

Soon  after  entering  the  infirmary,  on  account  of  the 
heavy  work  she  performed,  as  well  as  the  prayers  and 
penances  she  continued  to  observe,  she  was  compelled, 
in  an  almost  dying  condition,  to  take  to  her  bed. 
There,  however,  she  would  not  recline  upon  her  pil- 
low, but,  supported  in  a  sitting  posture,  would  pass 
her  time  in  sewing  and  knitting,  until  she  became  too 
weak  to  hold  the  needles  in  her  tremulous  and  almost 
transparent  hands. 

Here,  as  the  mistress  of  novices  narrated  these  facts 
to  me,  I  remarked,  "  She  must  have  had  the  consump- 
tion, mother." 

"Yes,  my  child,"  replied  she,  in  her  blandest  tones, 
and  gazing  into  my  face  ;  "  'tis  a  part  of  our  vocation." 

During  her  illness  in  the  infirmary  she  would  often 
decline  taking  any  nourishment,  and  when  she  con- 
sented to  do  so,  she  ate  the  food  with  a  number  of 
flies  that  had  alighted  upon  it.  "This  she  did  for 
mortification,"  said  my  informant.  She  would  lie 
awake  all  night,  making  such  aspirations  as  these: 
"  Sweet  Jesus !   Holy  Mother !   Holy  St.  Joseph !  pray 


HUMILITY.  181 

for  me."  "  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her,"  said  the 
mistress  of  novices,  "when  she  died.  Her  large  black 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  crucifix,  and  she  requested 
us  to  light  the  candles  upon  the  table  at  the  foot  of 
her  bed,  on  which  the  crucifix  stood.  O  sister !  she 
was  a  living  saint,  and  at  her  death  was  admitted  at 
once  into  the  presence  of  our  Lord  and  blessed  Moth- 
er; she  melted  away  like  a  print  of  butter!" 
Such  was  the  example  I  was  desired  to  imitate. 


182  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

SELF-MO  KT  IF  I  CATION. 

The  foregoing  narrative  will  serve  to  exemplify  tlie 
nature  of  the  subjects  to  whicli  our  contemplations  in 
tlie  community  were  habitually  drawn  as  worthy  to 
be  admired  and  followed.  I  may  now  mention  some 
few  of  the  historical  models  whose  characters  we  were 
accustomed  to  study  with  peculiar  veneration. 

The  life  of  St.  Theresa,  founder  of  the  Order  of  re- 
formed Carmelites,  was  often  rehearsed  for  our  special 
edification.  She  was  a  Carmelite  nun,  a  native  of 
Spain,  and  undertook  to  revive  the  former  austerities 
of  the  community  to  which  she  belonged.  Her  his- 
tory, written  in  French,  was  in  the  library,  and  was 
frequently  read.  This  order  is  the  most  strict  of  all 
except  the  Trappist.  There  is  but  one  Carmelite  nun- 
nery in  this  country — that,  namely,  which  is  located 
in  Aisquith  Street,  Baltimore.  I  have  already  given 
some  account  of  its  severe  discipline. 

A  favorite  theme  of  narration  at  St.  Joseph's  was 
the  life  of  the  Princess  Louise,  daughter  of  Louis  XI Y. 
of  France,  who  became  a  Carmelite  nun  in  her  father's 
palace. 

By  the  aid  of  a  maid-servant  and  a  nun  who  were 
in  her  confidence,  she  made  her  profession,  and  hav- 


SELF-MORTIFICATION.  183 

ing  procured  the  tunic  worn  by.  tlie  sisters,  she  wore 
it  in  order  to  accustom  herself  to  its  use.  After  this 
she  obtained  the  hair  shirt,  and  wore  it  also  under  her 
princely  robes,  without  the  knowledge  of  her  royal 
parent.  She  had  an  utter  dislike  to  the  odor  of  tal- 
low ;  but,  as  the  Carmelites  use  tallow  candles,  she 
caused  her  servant  to  procure  some,  and  every  night 
would  burn  one- — at  first  for  a  short  time,  as  the  smell 
sickened  her ;  and  thus  she  accustomed  herself  to  it. 
In  a  very  small  room  near  her  own  she  had  placed  an 
iron  bedstead,  with  a  hard  mattress,  and,  before  re- 
tiring to  her  own  apartment,  she  would  recline  for  a 
while  on  this  Carmelite  bed,  until  so  used  to  it  that 
she  could  there  pass  the  whole  night.  Thus  it  was 
that  she  practiced  mortification  of  the  flesh.  She  aft- 
erward entered  the  nunnery,  and  it  is  related  that  on 
one  occasion  she  was  sent  to  scour  the  pots  and  ket- 
tles in  the  kitchen.  She  was  robed  in  a  brocade,  "  cou- 
leur  de  rose,"  and  this  dress  has  been  preserved,  to 
show  that  even  a  princess  could  perform  menial  offices. 
Not  knowing  how  to  do  such  work,  she  ignorantly 
cleaned  the  outside  of  the  vessel ;  but,  when  told  that 
it  was  the  inside  that  should  be  cleaned,  she  cheerfully 
scoured  that  also. 

These  instances  of  humility  on  the  part  of  a  prin- 
cess were  held  up  for  our  instruction ;  and  my  own 
feelings,  in  view  of  such  relations,  were  at  times  deep- 
ly exercised,  as  I  was  urged  to  emulate  this  spirit  of 
so-called  humility  and  mortification  of  the  flesh. 


184  MISS  bunkley's  book, 


CHAPTER  XXXYI. 

INSANITY   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S. 

Sister  John  Patientia,  as  she  was  called,  was  a 
person  considerably  past  the  period  of  youth,  and 
somewhat  faded  in  aspect,  hut  still  retaining  the  traces 
of  extraordinary  beauty.  She  would  often  break  the 
rules  of  the  institution,  but  would  receive  no  punish- 
ment for  the  offense.  She  would  sometimes  speak  in 
time  of  silence,  and  try  to  make  the  novices  laugh. 
Entering  the  novitiate  with  a  mischievous  glance 
around  her,  she  would  utter  some  humorous  remark, 
provoking  almost  irresistible  mirth. 

If,  as  the  wise  man  says,  there  be  "  a  time  to  laugh," 
it  is  assuredly  not  during  any  portion  of  a  novice's  life. 
The  rules  forbid  any  approach  to  merriment ;  a  seri- 
ous face  is  continually  to  be  worn,  and  any  thing  like 
levity  would  be  severely  punished. 

This  alone,  it  might  be  supposed,  would  of  itself 
impair  the  health  of  an  individual  endowed  by  nature 
with  a  lively  and  cheerful  disposition.  But,  as  I  am 
not  qualified  to  judge  of  this  effect,  I  simply  state  the 
fact,  and  leave  physiologists  to  determine. 

Sister  Patientia  was  very  talented  and  highly  edu- 
cated. She  spoke  several  languages  fluently,  and  had 
formerly  been  a  teacher  in  the  academy.     Her  duties 


INSANITY   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.  185 

at  present  were  to  attend  to  the  corridor,  or  outer 
gallery;  sweeping  the  brick  floor,  brushing  the  win- 
dows, and  removing  the  dust  from  the  leaves  of  the 
plants ;  scrubbing  the  platform  and  steps,  and  wash- 
ing the  windows.  It  was  her  duty  also  to  ring  the 
great  bell  of  the  cloisters  for  the  devotions  of  the  com- 
munity. This  is  the  sister  who  had  charge  of  the  shoe- 
room,  and  of  whom  I  have  elsewhere  spoken. 

Sometimes,  as  the  sisters  were  passing  her  in  the 
corridor,  she  would  rest  her  chin  on  her  broom,  look 
facetiously  at  them,  making  faces,  and  stationing  her- 
self in  their  way  to  obstruct  their  progress.  She  did 
not  take  her  meals  with  the  community,  but  break- 
fasted at  about  ten,  and  dined  at  four.  Her  portion 
would  be  placed  upon  the  corner  of  the  table,  near  the 
door.  She  would  remove  the  plate  that  covered  it, 
and  then  perform  her  devotions  before  the  crucifix  in 
a  manner  calculated  to  excite  merriment,  making  the 
sign  of  the  cross  with  a  rapid  jerk.  Then,  looking 
significantly  upon  her  food,  she  would  go  away  and 
leave  it  untouched;  or,  perhaps,  taking  a  mouthful, 
make  a  grimace,  mutter  to  herself,  and  walk  hastily 
away  through  the  corridor.  I  seized  an  opportunity 
one  day  to  ask  her  why  she  did  not  take  her  meals 
more  regularly.  She  replied,  "  One  should  take  more 
care  of  the  soul  than  of  the  body  ;"  and  her  tone  and 
manner  were  so  ludicrous  that  I  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing. 

Sometimes,  on  meeting  the  Superior  in  the  corridor, 
she  would  kneel  down,  and  kiss  the  hem  of  her  habit 
with  an  air  of  the  most  devout  worship.  One  day 
she  took  me  with  her  to  her  cell,  and  commenced  to 


186  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

give  me  a  short  liistoiy  of  her  early  life  ;  of  the  wealth 
of  her  family  ;  how  she  entered  the  institution,  leaving 
home  without  her  parents'  knowledge  or  consent ;  how 
she  came  to  tliis  country,  etc.  Fearing  lest  I  should 
overstay  my  time,  I  attempted  to  leave.  "  Wait  a 
little,"  she  replied,  "till  I  tell  you  how  much  I  have 
suffered  and  am  suffering  now."  Pointing  to  her  bed, 
she  said,  "  I  have  not  rested  on  that  bed  for  years, 
but  am  forced  to  remain  in  a  sitting  posture  all  night, 
on  account  of  a  large  ulcer  on  my  side,  and  a  difficulty 
in  breathing  that  will  not  suffer  me  to  lie  down." 

There  Avas  another  sister  in  the  house  who  was  also 
said  to  be  insane,  yet  was  allowed  to  go  about  the 
house,  and  to  attend  mass  and  confession.  I  remem- 
ber meeting  her  once  on  the  corridor,  when  she  came 
rushing  toward  me,  and,  shaking  her  clenched  fist, 
shrieked,  "Novice!  get  out  of  my  way  ! "  I  jumped 
over  an  oleander  box  to  avoid  her,  in  great  alarm. 

The  reader  Avill  not  be  surprised  to  hear  that  there 
are  insane  inmates  of  these  institutions.  There  is  an 
apartment  for  the  insane  which  I  have  never  entered. 
I  have  occasionally  seen  insane  persons  come  rushing 
out  of  a  door  at  the  foot  of  a  stairway  leading  to  that 
apartment,  muttering  and  talking  wildly.  The  un- 
natural life  they  lead  is,  perhaps,  the  life  of  all  others 
most  calculated  to  produce  such  effects. 

Infirmity  of  body  and  insanity  of  mind  I  consider 
the  natural  resjilts  of  convent  life. 


187 


CHAPTER  XXXYIL 

ORDER   OF    "SISTERS   OF   CHARITY." 

The  institution  of  St.  Joseph's  is  not  one  of  th6se 
establishments  denominated  "  close  convents,"  in 
which  the  nuns,  having  once  assumed  the  veil,  are 
perpetually  immured.  Its  ostensible  purpose  is  the 
education  and  training  of  its  inmates  for  deeds  of  char- 
ity and  mercy.  These  persons,  having  received  the' 
requisite  instruction  and  discipline,  are,  lohen  they  can 
he  trusted^  dispatched  to  various  stations,  with  the  ob- 
ject of  exercising  their  functions  and  of  attracting  no- 
tice to  the  order  to  which  they  belong.  They  consti- 
tute a  striking  feature  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
and  offer  a  continual  and  living  text  of  laudation  to 
the  priests,  who  point  to  them  and  to  their  "labors 
of  love"  as  beneficent  fruits  and  appropriate  illustra- 
tions of  the  holy  character  of  their  religion.*     There 

*  In  so  far  as  this  order  claims  to  be  a  voluntary  association  of 
women  for  charitable  purposes,  under  the  title  of  Sisters  of  Charity,  it 
is  no  original  creation  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  but  has  actually 
been  borrowed  from  Protestantism.  Among  the  Waldenses,  the  "  Bo- 
hemian Brothers,"  and  the  Moravians,  there  is  a  record  of  the  exist- 
ence of  "  deaconesses,"  as  they  were  termed  in  the  primitive  age,  as 
early  as  1457  ;  but  it  was  in  the  sixteenth  century  that  Robert  von 
der  Mark,  Prince  of  Sedan  in  the  Netherlands,  founded  the  institution 
of  Protestant  ''Demoiselles  de  Charitc"  as  he  called  them,  and  to  this 
institution  he  granted  the  revenues  of  suppressed  monasteries.     The 


188  MISS    BUNKLEY'S    BOOK. 

are  forty-one   niission-liouses    attached  to   the   order 
in  the  United  States,  numbering  ahont  five  hundred 

office  so  founded  received  a  formal  ecclesiastical  recognition  in  1568, 
from  the  General  Synod  of  the  Reformed  Church  of  the  Lower  Rhine 
and  the  Netherlands.     It  was  not  until  1633,  or  sixty-five  years  later, 
that  Vincent  de  Paul  established  his  order  of  Sisters  of  Charity.    There 
are  now  institutions  bearing  the  title  of  houses  of  Protestant  Sisters 
of  Charity,  or  Deaconesses,  at  Paris,  Strasburg,  Echallens,  Berlin, 
Utrecht,  Stockholm,  and  Kaiserwerth.     There  is  also  one  at  Pittsburg 
in  our  own  country.    Acting  as  nurses  to  the  sick,  teachers  of  reform- 
atory schools,  guardians  of  females  released  from  prison,  visitors  of 
the  poor,  and  in  other  spheres  of  usefulness,  these  excellent  women 
are  hound  by  no  vow  or  obligation  of  obedience,  but  serve  God  with 
the  freedom  and  voluntary  earnestness  of  intelligent  Christians.    They 
number  now  many  hundreds,  of  whom   several  are  engaged  at  the 
present  moment  in  caring  for  the  wounded  and  dying  of  the  allied 
armies  before   Sebastopol.      The  institution   of  Kaiserwerth,  on  the 
Rhine,  under  the  direction  of  the  Reverend  Pastor  Fliedner  and  his 
excellent  wife,  has  sent  forth  no  fewer  than  one  hundred  and  eighty 
of  these  deaconesses  to  different  parts  of  the  world.     Its  hospital  con- 
tains one  hundred  and  twenty  patients,  its  training  institution  for 
deaconesses  seventy-seven  probationers  ;  the  entire  household,  with 
orphan  asylum,  infant    school,   etc.,  numbering   three   hundred  and 
ninety  inmates.     But  while  we  cite  these  facts  to  show  that  the  idea 
of  such  charitable  enterprises  is  not  peculiar  to  Romanism,  we  would 
not  lay  any  great  stress  upon  such  developments  of  Christian  charity, 
remembering  that  the  glory  of  our  Protestantism  resides  not  in  a  multi- 
tude of  formal  organizations  for  the  professed  relief  of  human  miseries, 
but  consists  rather  in  those  numberless,  quiet,  and  unobtrusive  channels 
of  individual  beneficence  which  in  Protestant  countries  now,  as  in  the 
primitive  days  of  Christianity,  carry  material  succor  and  spiritual  con- 
solation to  the  abodes  of  the  destitute  and  friendless.     And  while, 
thanks  to  the  healthful  tendencies  of  a  pure  religion,  which  elevates 
the  masses  in  mental  capacity,  and  social  comfort,  and  political  well- 
being,  there  is  far  from  the  same  amount  of  physical  distress  to  call 
for  alleviation  in  Protestant  lands  as  in  those  where  Romanism  has 
combined  with  civil  despotism  for  ages  past  to  crush  the  intellect  and 
degrade  the  life  of  the  masses,  we  do  not  covet,  in  any  sense,  the 
help  of  these  conventual  systems  and  establishments,  which  under- 
take, by  a  mechanism  controlling  individual  wills  under  a  stern  law  of 


ORDER   OF    "SISTERS   OF   CHARITY."  189 

members,  including  those  at  the  central  institution. 
These  are  scattered  in  various  cities  and  towns  of  the 
country.  Where  there  are  but  two  sisters  in  a  city 
or  town,  they  have  their  mission-house,  their  chapel, 
and  their  separate  confessional,  at  which  the  priest 
on  the  station  is  always  a  frequent  visitor.  Wlien 
their  services  are  not  too  constantly  in  requisition, 
they  generally  open  a  school,  at  which  the  children  of 
the  poor  are  taught  free  of  charge,  and  by  which  means 
many  proselytes  are  won  to  the  Roman  Catholic  faith. 
These  communities  are  all  under  the  control  of  the 
Superior  of  St.  Joseph's,  w^hich  is  the  "  mother-house," 
as  it  is  styled,  in  this  country.  But  this  mother- 
house  is  coimected  with  the  house  in  Paris,  which 
is  the  centre  of  the  whole  order  throughout  the  world, 
comprising  some  five  hundred  and  fifty-three  estab- 
lishments, with  nearly  nine  tliousand  members.  This 
is  according  to  the  best  statistics  I  can  obtain  ;  but  in 
the  institution  of  St.  Joseph's  I  was  informed  there 
was  a  much  larger  number. 

The  fact  that  sisters  are  sent  from  the  mother-house 
to  the  different  towns  and  cities  throughout  the  coun- 
try to  exercise  their  vocation  as  nurses  for  the  sick, 
has  been  enlarged  upon  to  refute  and  ridicule  the  idea 
of  any  restraint  or  coercion  to  prevent  members  from 
leaving  the  institution  ;  but  this  assertion  must  be  re- 
ceived with  a  considerable  degree  of  allowance.  It 
should  be  recollected  that  the  sisters  who  are  thus  sent 
abroad  go  forth  to  establish  new  communities  ("  mis- 
obedience  to  authority,  the  performance  of  those  offices  of  mercy, 
which,  to  be  truly  Christian,  must  be  the  dictates  of  a  free  and  cheer- 
ful piety. 


190  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

sions"  they  are  called)  subordinate  to  tlie  principal  one, 
where  the  same  rules  are  observed  as  at  head-quarters. 
On  these  missions  only  the  trustworthy — those,  name- 
ly, upon  whom  the  Superior  can  implicitly  rely — are 
sent.  But  a  little  reflection  will  convince  the  reader 
that,  even  if  so  disposed,  it  would  be  a  difficult  thing 
for  a  sister  to  escape  from  her  bonds.  A  constant  su- 
pervision is  kept  by  the  priest  and  the  sister-servant 
on  the  station,  who  would  instantly  report  any  refrac- 
tory symptoms,  and  she  would  be  recalled.  In  a 
strange  place,  too,  far  from  her  friends,  it  would  require 
a  strong  resolution  to  desert  her  charge,  and  appeal  to 
the  public,  especially  when  she  knows  that  the  entire 
Catholic  population  would  combine  to  discredit  her 
statement  and  destroy  her  character.  Few  would  dare 
to  contend  with  such  considerations  as  these.  By  far 
the  greater  number  would  prefer  to  endure  evils  with 
which  they  were  familiar  rather  than  encounter  un- 
known trials  in  a  new  position. 

The  number  of  inmates  at  St.  Joseph's,  including 
postulants,  seminary  sisters  or  novices,  and  professed 
sisters,  is  about  one  hundred  and  forty — often  more,  but 
seldom  less.  This  number,  of  course,  does  not  compre- 
hend the  boarders  in  the  academy,  of  whom  there  are 
sometimes  as  many  as  one  hundred  and  fifty.  From 
this  mother-house,  members  are  transferred,  at  the 
option  of  the  Superior,  to  the  con-esponding  institu- 
tions in  different  parts  of  the  United  States — even  to 
California,  and  also  to  France.  This  removal  is  in  or- 
der to  supply  vacancies  occasioned  by  sickness  or  death 
in  the  subordinate  communities,  and  sometimes  to  es- 
tablish communities  in  places  where  their  existence 


ORDER   OF    "SISTERS    OF    CHARITY."  191 

may  be  deemed  politic  or  necessary,  as  the  means  of 
increasing  the  influence  of  the  Church  in  such  locali- 
ties. 

The  Sisters  of  Charity  have  for  years  constituted  a 
theme  of  enthusiastic  praise  and  commendation,  even 
on  the  part  of  many  Protestants.  Their  purity,  their 
self-devotion,  their  self-denial,  their  courage  in  exposure 
to  disease  while  ministering  to  the  wants  of  the  sick 
and  dying,  in  crowded  hospitals,  whose  fetid  atmos- 
phere is  full  of  peril,  have  been  lauded  to  the  skies. 
Turgid  eulogies  of  their  gentleness  and  beauty,  their  • 
tender  ministrations,  the  soft  touch  of  their  white 
hands,  and  the  sympathetic  tear  called  forth  by  the 
sufferings  of  their  patients,  have  been  so  often  the  sub- 
ject of  newspaper  paragTaphs  and  sentimentalities  of 
novels,  that  public  sentiment  has  been  warmly  en- 
listed in  their  advocacy  and  defense.  But  it  may  be 
asked,  in  all  candor,  is  there  any  need  of  the  show  and 
parade  with  which  the  good  deeds  of  these  sisters  are  ex- 
posed to  the  views  of  the  world  ?  Are  they  the  only  be- 
ings who  tend  the  bed  of  sickness,  or  assuage  the  pangs 
of  disease  ?  Are  those  only  to  be  regarded  as  acts  of 
Christian  benevolence  which  are  accomplished  by  drill- 
ed and  disciplined  cohorts,  who,  like  the  soldiers  of  an 
army,  resign  themselves  to  the  government  of  a  single 
will,  and  mechanically  or  slavishly  obey  it  ?  Is  this 
method  so  infinitely  superior  to  that  of  the  numerous 
Protestant  associations  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  our  land,  and  the  far  more  numerous  indi- 
vidual missionaries  of  mercy,  who  not  only  tend  the 
sick  in  the  hospitals,  but,  far  more,  who  search  out  the 
poor,  the  widow,  the  fatherless,  and  let  in  the  liglit  of 


192 

charity  upon  tlieir  comfortless  abodes  ?  who  instruct 
the  ignorant,  comfort  the  desponding,  and  reclaim  the 
fallen,  and  this  of  their  own  free,  heaven-inspired 
choice  and  uncontrolled  purpose,  and  without  regard 
to  sectarian  limits,  but  rather  extending  to  all,  of  ev- 
ery name  and  nation,  an  equal  share  of  generous  re- 
lief? Tlie  appropriation  of  all  these  high-toned  pane- 
gyrics to  a  vowed  community  of  Eoman  Cathohcs, 
whose  main  design  is  avowedly  to  proselyte  by  means 
of  their  various  enterprises  of  benevolence,  reflects  an 
indirect  slander  upon  the  charity  of  Protestants,  as 
though  their  less  ostentatious  course  were  actuated"  by 
inferior  motives. 

I  entertained  formerly  the  same  extravagant  ideas 
of  the  pure  and  unselfish  life  of  this  order,  but  expe- 
rience and  observation  have  dispelled  the  illusion. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  whole  system  of  popery  is  one  of 
proselytism,  toward  the  fulfillment  of  which  every  in- 
strument is  brought  to  bear;  and  the  Order  of  "  Sis- 
ters of  Charity"  forms  not  the  least  efficient  part  of  the 
forces  employed  by  Komanism,  certainly  not  the  least 
influential  of  the  appliances  by  which  the  doctrines  of 
popery  are  infused  into  the  breasts  of  the  credulous 
and  unwary. 

The  community  of  St.  Joseph's  is  under  the  direc- 
tion of  two  superiors — the  "Mother  Superior,"  and  a 
priest  of  the  Order  of  St.  Lazare.  It  would  be  an 
anomaly  in  Eomanism  for  an  institution  to  exist  with- 
out the  participation  of  the  "holy  fathers"  in  its  gov- 
ernment. The  Lazarists  have  a  "  house"  at  Emmetts- 
burg,  and  pay  frequent  visits  to  St.  Joseph's  to  hear 
confessions  and  for  other  purposes.     They  are  styled 


ORDER    OF    **  SISTERS    OF    CHARITY."  193 

in  the  community  the  "sons,"  as  the  sisterhood  are 
the  "  daughters"  of  charity,  regarding  each  other  as 
brethren  and  sisters  of  one  great  family.  The  two  or- 
ders are  thus  nearly  allied,  and  operate  in  association. 
They  are  governed  by  the  same  religious  authorities, 
the  ecclesiastical  superior  of  the  one  being  the  director 
of  the  other,  and  both  having  the  same  chief  confessor. 
They  affect  a  community  of  interests,  and  mutually  ex- 
tol each  others'  merits,  and  commend  the  piety,  devo- 
tedness,  and  purity  of  each  others'  lives.  One  of  these 
priests  is  always  at  the  institution,  where  he  is  regard- 
ed with  the  utmost  reverence  and  affection,  and  his 
counsels  are  appreciated  as  the  commands  of  Deity. 

I 


194  MISS    BUNKLEYS   BOOK. 


CHAPTER  XXXYIII. 

THE   ACADEMY. 

Connected  with  St.  Joseph's  there  is  a  school  for 
the  instruction  of  young  ladies,  at  which  the  most  ac- 
complished and  reliable  of  the  sisterhood  are  teachers. 
The  academy  is  a  separate  building,  but  attached  to 
the  other  edifices  by  covered  porches,  and  the  pupils 
have  their  distinct  refectory  and  sleeping  apartments, 
which  are  presided  over  by  sisters  appointed  for  the 
purpose,  and  denominated  "  angels,"  as  before  stated. 

This  school  is  managed  with  consummate  dexterity 
and  ability;  so  much  so,  that,  with  few  exceptions, 
the  scholars  become  ardently  attached  to  their  teach- 
ers, and  are  warm  advocates  of  the  interests  of  the 
community.  This  is  no  matter  for  wonder,  as  they 
see  only  the  bright  side  of  the  picture,  and  have  not 
the  most  remote  conception  of  the  privations,  the  in- 
trigues, and  the  horrors  within.  They  behold  an  as- 
semblage of  pious  recluses,  who  have  parted  with  all 
the  vanities  of  the  world,  and  are  preparing  themselves, 
by  patient  and  meek  self-denial,  to  assuage  the  suffer- 
ings of  their  fellow-creatures  on  earth,  and  render 
themselves  meet  for  heaven.  So  fair  is  the  hght,  so 
attractive  the  coloring  of  this  poetic  scene,  that  many, 
having  passed  through  their  educational  course  in  the 


THE    ACADEMY.  195 

academy,  return  to  tlie  institution,  and  enter  upon 
their  novitiate,  discovering  too  late  their  mistake,  and 
the  terrible  reality  of  the  life  before  them. 

Both  the  Jesuits  and  the  "  Sisters  of  Charity"  are 
adepts  in  teaching  the  young,  having  reduced  the  prac- 
tice, by  long  experience  and  study,  to  a  system  almost 
perfect.  They  know  especially  how  to  blend  strict- 
ness and  discipline  with  kindness  and  indulgence,  by 
observing  the  characters  and  dispositions  of  those  un- 
der their  charge.  The  pupils  arc  taught  well,  accord- 
ing to  the  capacity  of  each,  that  their  parents  may  be 
satisfied  with  their  progress  and  attainments,  and  may 
speak  in  approving  terms  of  the  institution.  At  the 
same  time,  every  exertion  is  made  to  win  the  affec- 
tions and  secure  the  confidence  of  the  scholars,  that 
they  may  stamp  their  young  and  impressible  minds 
with  the  doctrines  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church,  and, 
if  possible,  allure  them  within  the  pale  of  the  commu- 
nity. Earely  do  these .  attempts  prove  unsuccessful, 
at  least  in  creating  a  strong  prepossession  toward 
those  doctrines  ;  and  the  ideas  implanted  at  the  school 
become  deep-rooted  and  fruitful,  unless  checked  in  their 
growth  by  the  watchful  care  of  parents  and  friends, 
even  this  proving  often  unavailing. 

At  St.  Joseph's  all  the  pupils,  or  boarders,  as  they 
are  called,  are  required  to  attend  mass  once  a  day, 
and  to  go  through  all  the  genuflexions  and  other  forms 
usual  at  that  service.  They  do  not,  however,  witness 
those  other  religious  exercises  of  the  community,  in 
which  devotion  is  made  a  pretext  for  the  infliction  of 
torture ;  they  hear  nothing  of  the  rigid  penances  en- 
joined for  the  slightest  and  most  unintentional  infrac- 


196  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tion  of  the  rules  ;  tliej  are  ignorant  of  tlie  unjust  favor- 
itism and  tlie  flagrant  partialities  exercised  by  those 
in  power.  All  is  fairy-land  to  them.  And  should  a 
charge  be  made  to  this  effect  in  the  presence  of  a  grad- 
uate of  the  academy,  by  a  sufferer  from  these  prac- 
tices, she  would  be  denounced,  as  I  have  been,  as  a 
fabricator  of  falsehoods,  and  a  calumniator  of  the  holy 
sisterhood. 

The  extent  to  which  the  affections  of  the  boarders 
are  gained,  both  by  the  Lazarist  priests  attached  to 
the  institution  and  by  the  teachers  of  the  academy,  in- 
cluding the  j\Iother  Superior,  is  scarcely  credible.  I 
have  known  instances  in  which  boarders  have  refused 
to  go  home  with  their  parents ;  and  one  in  particular, 
in  which  a  father  visited  his  daughter  at  St.  Joseph's, 
when  she  manifested  the  most  complete  indifference  to 
his  attentions,  and  even  showed  repugnance  at  his  ca- 
resses, weeping  bitterly  when  told  of  his  intention  to 
take  her  home,  and  angrily  deshing  to  be  left,  even 
when  appealed  to  in  the  name  of  her  mother.  More 
than  once  have  I  seen,  with  the  blood  tingling  in  my 
veins,  and  the  flush  of  indignation  on  my  cheek,  a 
young  girl  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  reposing  her  head  on 
the  breast  of  a  young  "Lazarist"  as  they  walked  to- 
gether, his  arm  thrown  over  her  shoulder.  This,  no 
doubt,  was  innocent  on  her  part,  at  least.  She  re- 
garded him  in  the  light  of  a  father ;  but  what  perni- 
cious consequences  might  ensue  from  this  familiarity ! 
And  was  he  performing  the  office  of  a  holy  guide  ? 

And  yet  Protestant  parents  will  send  their  children 
to  be  educated  at  Eoman  Catholic  institutions,  delud- 
ing themselves  with  the  idle  and  silly  notion  that  no 


THE   ACADEMY.  197 

effort  will  be  made  to  indoctrinate  them  with  popish 
errors.  Ave  they  not  aware  that  this  religion  is  one 
of  exclusive  pretensions,  and  that,  believing  all  with- 
out its  pale  doomed  to  sure  perdition,  its  members,  if 
sincere,  are  bound  to  use  every  effort  for  the  conver- 
sion of  heretics,  and  their  rescue  from  destruction? 
If  ignorant  of  this,  their  ignorance  is  unpardonable, 
for  it  is  the  result  of  sheer  indifference,  or  disinclina- 
tion to  inform  themselves  on  the  subject ;  and  thus  to 
hazard  the  temporal  and  eternal  welfare  of  their  most 
precious  jewels  in  slothful  disregard  of  this  all-import- 
ant issue  is  a  crime  beyond  excuse.  The  whole  para- 
phernalia of  popery,  from  its  enthroned  vice-god  at 
Rome,  to  its  humblest  lay-member  cringing  at  the  feet 
of  his  priest,  is  perpetually  engaged  in  the  business  of 
making  proselytes  :  the  clergy,  to  swell  the  ranks  and 
augment  the  influence  of  their  fraternity  ;  and  the  lai- 
ty, aside  from  all  other  motives,  because  they  believe 
that  in  so  doing  they  are  saving  souls.  Schools  and 
colleges  afford  the  widest  scope  and  the  readiest  means 
of  realizing  these  ends ;  and  hence  the  great  number 
of  these  institutions  that  have  sprung  up  of  late,  in 
every  section  of  the  land,  attached  to  Jesuitical  com- 
munities and  convents,  where  the  craft  of  man  and  the 
gentle  persuasion  of  woman  unite  in  bending  the  ten- 
der character  of  youth,  that  the  matured  tree  may  de- 
velop in  accordance  with  popish  distortion  and  dis- 
ease.* 

*  While  the  influences  brought  to  bear  at  these  institutions  upon  the 
pupils  are  generally  such  as  to  attract- their  affection,  and  render  them 
contented,  there  are  cases  in  which  a  sterner  course  is  followed,  and 
in  such  cases  the  oppression  is  evidently  irremediable.  Coercive 
means,  as  well  as  those  of  a  persuasive  character,  can  be  used,  in  the 


198  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

When  will  American  parents  learn  wisdom  ?  If 
they  consider  it  indispensable  that  their  children  be 
sent  from  home  for  their  education,  are  there  not  hund- 
reds of  Protestant  schools,  where  every  branch  of 
knowledge  is  taught  by  intelligent  and  experienced 
teachers  ;  where  every  elegant  -accomplishment  can  be 
acquired,  and  all  valuable  instruction  obtained?  At 
all  events,  let  not  the  susceptible  mind  and  heart  of  a 
young  girl  be  intrusted  to  the  charge  of  Catholic  nuns 
and  their  clerical  directors.     Let  not  the  precious  ob- 

academy  as-  in  the  sisterhood,  to  accomplish  the  work  of  bending  the 
will  and  the  faculties  to  the  purposes  of  Rome,  inquiries  have  often 
been  addressed  to  me  with  reference  to  the  opportunities  of  novices 
for  sending  messages  to  their  friends  by  means  of  the  boarders.  All 
such  modes  of  communication  are  precluded  by  the  watchful  care  of 
those  in  charge.  The  directress  has  the  perusal  of  all  letters  written 
by  the  boarders  or  sent  to  them.  Protestant  parents  should  under- 
stand that  their  children  are  not  allowed  to  correspond  with  them  in  an 
unrestrained  manner.  Small,  however,  as  the  chances  of  any  commu- 
nication with  friends  may  be  in  the  academy,  I  feel  assured  that  if  any 
suspicion  of  my  discontent  had  been  entertained,  I  should  not  have 
been  permitted  to  enter  the  academy  for  the  purposes  of  teaching. 

I  may  here  mention  the  case  of  a  child  under  my  instruction  at  the 
academy — a  case  which  I  am  confident  is  only  one  among  many  : 
Josephine  Picuabia  (such,  I  think,  was  the  name)  had  been  placed  at 
St.  Joseph's  by  her  parents,  who  were  from  Cuba,  at  a  very  early  age. 
She  would  frequently  come  to  her  lessons  in  tears,  and,  resting  her 
head  on  my  bosom,  would  give  vent  to  her  sorrow,  after  exclaiming, 
"  Oh,  sister,  you  are  the  only  one  that  is  kind  to  me  !"  She  complained 
of  severe  treatment;  that  she  was  whipped  and  beaten,  and  was  in 
terror  of  her  life,  yet  could  not  inform  her  parents,  as  the  directress 
would  not  let  her  write  home. 

This  child  first  became  attached  to  me  more  particularly  because  my 
name  was  the  same  with  her  own.  I  always  treated  her  kindly,  and 
sympathized  deeply  with  her  distress.  We  were  frequently  left  alone 
in  our  music-room,  and  I  had  occasion  to  hear  her  grievances  as  I  en- 
deavored to  soothe  her  into  composure  for  her  lessons. 


THE   ACADEMY.  199 

jects  of  parental  solicitude  and  love— the  Cornelian 
jewels  of  American  homes— be  placed  where  their  lus- 
tre will  be  tarnished  and  their  value  lost ;  when,  in 
this  Protestant  land,  so  many  institutions  have  been 
founded  where  the  youthful  mind  may  be  properly 
trained,  and  the  gem,  skillfully  polished,  may  be  re- 
turned to  adorn  society  and  the  world. 


200  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

NUNNERIES   AND    SCHOOLS. 

It  is  proper  that  some  explanation  be  given  at  this 
point  with  reference  to  one  of  the  objects  of  these  Eo- 
man  Catholic  institutions  of  learning,  as  it  is  one  not 
generaUj  understood  by  the  Protestant  public. 

Schools  are  first  opened  in  connection  with  a  new 
enterprise  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  at  their  mission- 
houses,  for  the  reception  of  children  belonging  to  the 
poorer  classes.  This  course  at  once  establishes  the 
reputation  of  the  order  for  benevolence  and  charity, 
and  serves  to  ingratiate  that  part  of  the  population, 
who  do  not  fail  to  speak  in  terms  of  eulogy  respecting 
their  amiable  and  disinterested  benefactors.  The  sis- 
ters have  among  them  teachers  highly  competent  to 
give  instruction  in  all  the  branches  of  female  educa- 
tion, even  for  the  highest  departments.  Such  teach- 
ers can  always  be  procured  from  the  older  and  well- 
established  houses  of  the  community,  and  that  without 
cost,  save  their  maintenance  merely.  Very  soon  they 
add  "pay-scholars"  to  the  number  of  their  pupils ;  and, 
as  the  school  becomes  better  known,  the  proportion  of 
such  scholars  augments,  while  the  number  of  those 
who  are  taught  gratuitously  diminishes.  At  length 
there  are  none  at  all  of  the  latter  class,  and  then  the 


NUNNEEIES  AND  SCHOOLS.         201 

institution  assumes  the  cliaracter  of  a  select  scliool. 
Even  though  the  prices  of  tuition  may  not  greatly  in- 
crease, a  selection  will  be  made  from  the  more  wealthy 
families,  and  such  as  will  best  suit  the  purposes  and 
designs  of  the  managers.  Next  it  becomes  a  board- 
ing-school ;  the  prices  arc  advanced  ;  and  in  the  course 
of  time  a  more  strict  discrimination  is  made  in  the  re- 
ception of  pupils.  The  number  is  more  and  more 
limited,  until,  a  sufficient  amount  having  been  realized 
from  the  proceeds  of  instruction,  tlie  object  is  attained, 
and  the  school  is  abandoned  altogether. 

Collections  are  often  made  among  the  scholars  to 
add  to  the  funds  of  the  institution.  At  St.  Joseph's 
this  was  frequently  done  for  some  special  purpose,  as, 
for  instance,  to  beautify  the  grounds  of  mission-houses. 

At  the  Visitation  Convent  in  Baltimore,  on  the  cor- 
ner of  Park  and  Centre  Streets,  the  sisters  had  for- 
merly a  very  extensive  school,  with  a  large  number  of 
boarders.  When  I  visited  that  convent  prior  to  my 
entrance  at  St.  Joseph's,  I  was  informed  that  the  num- 
ber of  boarders  w^as  then  limited  to  sixteen,  and  that 
the  school  would  soon  be  discontinued.  I  was  also 
told  that  a  sufficient  amount  had  been  acquired  for  the 
purchase  of  Mount  de  Sales,  a  beautifal  and  most  val- 
uable property,  which  cost  over  a  million  of  dollars,  and 
is  now,  I  learn,  the  residence  of  Father  Deluol,  the 
Superior  General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits.  The  car- 
riage of  that  institution  was  to  have  been  sent  for  me 
to  visit  Mount  de  Sales  in  company  with  a  priest,  but 
I  did  not  remain  in  Baltimore  long  enough  to  avail 
myself  of  the  opportunity.  At  the  Carmelite  nunnery 
there  was  formerly  a  school,  but  not,  I  believe,  a  board- 

12 


202  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ing-school,  tliat  institution  being  more  strict  and  pri- 
vate than  others.  The  school  is  now  given  up  alto- 
gether ;  so,  at  least,  I  was  informed  at  St.  Joseph's. 

While  on  the  subject  of  the  accumulation  of  money 
in  these  Roman  Catholic  convents,  I  may  advert  to 
the  fact  that  there  is  at  St.  Joseph's  a  treasurer^  who 
occupies  a  small  apartment  adjoining  the  stationery- 
room,  and  in  which  she  sleeps  at  night.  I  have  often 
been  sent  to  that  room,  and  have  there  observed  an 
iron  chest,  in  which  I  have  seen  a  quantity  of  gold 
coin  and  jewelry.  Many  of  the  statues  are  decorated 
with  valuable  ornaments,  such  as  diamond-rings,  neck- 
laces, gold  crosses,  etc.  These  are  presents  from  vis- 
itors and  other  friends.  I  knew  one  sister  who  wrote 
to  her  parents  for  certain  gold  and  silver  articles  of 
great  value,  which  she  designed  as  presents  for  one  of 
the  statues  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  If  the  sisters  indi- 
vidually are  poor,  in  accordance  with  their  vow  of  pov- 
erty, the  community  as  a  whole  is  wealthy,  and  the 
Superiors  exercise  entire  control  over  that  wealth. 
They  have  also  an  immense  farm  connected  with  the 
establishment. 


FOUNDERS   OF  THE   INSTITUTION.  203 


CHAPTEE  XL. 

FOUNDERS   OF   THE   INSTITUTION. 

The  "  Conferences"  have  frequently  been  mention- 
ed in  these  pages,  and  in  connection  with  them  the 
"rules"  laid  down  by  the  founder  of  the  community. 
These  rules,  which  are  contained  in  small  books  kept 
under  lock  and  key,  have  been  handed  down  from  St. 
Vincent  de  Paul,  who  communicated  them  to  the  sis- 
terhood. 

A  large  and  finely-executed  portrait  of  this  saint, 
who  was  also  the  founder  of  the  congregation  of  mis- 
sions known  as  the  Order  of  St.  Lazare,  hangs  in  the 
chapel  at  St.  Joseph's.  He  is  there  4^resented  as 
holding  a  foundling  in  his  arms,  while  at  his  side  a 
sister  is  seen  taking  another  infant  out  of  a  basket. 

The  lives  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  and  St. Francis  de 
Sales  were  frequently  given  us  to  read,  as  well  as  that 
of  Mother  Seton,  who  originated  the  institution  at  Em- 
mettsburg.  Mrs.  Seton  had  been  a  Protestant  lady, 
the  daughter  of  an  eminent  physician  in  New  York, 
and  the  wife  of  a  merchant  of  high  character,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  In  1803  she 
accompanied  her  husband  to  Italy  for  the  benefit  of 
his  health ;  he,  however,  expired  shortly  after  reach- 
ing Naples,  and  she  was  at  once  received  into  the  fam- 


204  MISS  blinkley's  book. 

ily  of  an  Italian  gentleman  who  had  long  been  in  com- 
mercial correspondence  Avith  her  husband.  This  gen- 
tleman, a  zealous  Roman  Catholic,  undertook  the  con- 
version of  Mrs.  Seton  to  his  own  faith.  His  influence 
over  her  mind  continued  after  her  return  to  America, 
and  in  1805  she  joined  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  was 
rebaptized  in  St.  Peter's,  New  York. 

Being  in  a  great  measure  deserted  by  her  relations, 
and  obliged  to  resort  to  teaching  for  support,  Mrs.  Se- 
ton removed  shortly  after  her  conversion  to  Baltimore, 
where  she  opened  a  school,  with  the  hope  that,  in  pro- 
cess of  time,  it  might  grow  into  "  a  society  whose 
members  would  be  specially  consecrated  to  God"  — 
that  is  to  say,  into  a  convent.  She  was  joined  by  her 
sister-in-law,  and  by  a  ]\Iiss  Conway,  of  Philadelphia ; 
and  soon  after  this  was  invited  by  the  priests  of  Bal- 
timore to  commence  a  "  religious"  establishment,  for 
the  foundation  of  which  a  legacy  of  eight  thousand 
dollars  had  recently  been  left. 

The  vicinity  of  Emmettsburg  having  been  selected 
for  the  location  of  the  projected  sisterhood,  a  piece  of 
land  south  of  the  village  was  bought.  At  that  time 
the  only  tenement  on  the  farm  was  a  small  stone 
building,  forming  part  of  what  is  now  used  as  the 
wash-house  of  the  institution.  It  stands  at  a  short 
distance  from  the  main  edifice,  and  is  called  the  cradle 
of  St.  Joseph's. 

Mrs.  Seton  now  assumed  for  herself  and  those  who 
joined  her  the  title  of  "  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph,"  placing 
themselves  "  under  the  protecting  care  of  St.  Joseph, 
the  faithful  guardian  of  the  Son  of  God  upon  earth." 
In  their  new  residence — a  small  house  containing  only 


FOUNDERS   OF   THE    INSTITUTION.  205 

one  stoiy  and  an  attic,  witli  two  rooms  on  eacli  floor — 
sixteen  persons  were  soon  crowded  together.  They 
were  often  reduced  to  the  poorest  fare,  such  as  "  car- 
rot-coffee, salt  pork,  and  buttermilk."  Thus  they  "  la- 
bored at  the  work  of  their  sanctification."  "  Conse- 
quent upon  this  style  of  living  to  persons  mostly 
reared  in  luxury,  the  sisterhood  was  for  several  months 
an  infirmary."  Miss  Harriet  Seton  was  the  first  vic- 
tim. She  was  shortly  followed  by  her  sister  Cecilia. 
Mrs.  Seton's  eldest  daughter,  Anna,  soon  after  sicken- 
ed and  died  of  consumption.  Her  death  was  proba- 
bly induced  by  acts  of  violent  mortification,  which  the 
biographer  characterizes  as  "heroic."  "  I  half  re- 
proached her,"  said  her  mother,  "for  her  little  care  of 
her  health :  rising  at  the  first  bell,  ever  being  on  the 
watch  to  ring  it  the  moment  the  clock  struck ;  wash- 
ing at  the  pump  in  the  severest  weather ;  often  eating 
in  the  refectory  what  sickened  her  stomach." 

The  next  who  fell  under  this  course  of  life  was  a 
Miss  Murphy.  "  On  one  occasion  she  was  directed  to 
put  her  feet  in  warm  water ;  which  the  sister  infirm a- 
rian  having  brought,  she  put  her  feet  into  it,  and  imme- 
diately withdrew  them,  observing  that  the  water  was 
too  hot ;  but  her  attendant  insisting  that  it  w^as  not 
too  warm,  she  returned  her  feet  into  the  vessel,  and 
kept  them  there  as  long  as  she  was  required,  although 
it  caused  her  intense  pain,  and  produced  an  inflamma- 
tion, from  which  she  suffered  for  a  long  time  after." 
By  such  "assiduous  practices  of  the  virtues  of  her 
state,"  we  are  told,  "  she  soon  became  ripe  for  heaven." 

In  July,  1813,  the  society  was  regularly  organized, 
eighteen  individuals  taking  upon  themselves  the  vows 


206  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

of  "poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience."  Meantime, 
large  additions  were  made,  and  continued  to  be  made, 
to  the  buildings  and  conveniences  of  the  establishment. 
The  asylum,  in  which  about  fifty  orphans,  as  near  as 
I  can  judge,  are  now  kept,  was  the  next  building  erect- 
ed. It  was  at  first  occupied  by  the  community.  A 
marble  tablet  in  the  wall  of  a  room  in  this  building 
marks  the  spot  where  the  bed  of  Mother  Seton  stood, 
and  where  she  died. 

Although  at  this  early  period  the  natural  fruits  of 
the  system  were  produced  in  the  suffering,  sickness, 
and  death  of  the  inmates,  carrying  out  the  idea  which, 
as  I  have  already  had  occasion  to  observe,  is  still  in- 
culcated— that  "  consumption  is  a  part  of  the  vocation 
of  the  sisters" — yet  it  seems  that  the  system  failed 
then,  as  it  does  now,  of  producing  that  superior  sanc- 
tity of  life  and  character  which  are  perpetually  claim- 
ed as  its  result.  So  much  may  at  least  be  inferred 
from  the  following  extract  from  an  address  of  Mrs.  Se- 
ton, who  was  now  called  the  IMother  Superior,  to  her 
sisters  in  profession:  "How  is  it,"  she  asks,  "that 
many  of  us  keep  the  rule  as  to  the  letter  of  it,  and 
also  look  pious  enough  ?  There  is  no  want  of  good 
will,  nor  idleness  indulged  ;  and  in  a  house  where  it 
would  seem  so  easy  to  become  saints,  you  would  say. 
What  is  the  matter  ?  Why  are  we  not  saints  ?  Why 
is  there  so  little  progress  in  perfection  ?  Or,  rather, 
why  are  so  many  tepid^  heavy ^  discouraged^  and  going 
along  MORE  LIKE  SLAVES  IN  A  WORK-HOUSE  than  chil- 
dren in  their  own  homes,  and  the  house  of  their  Fa- 
ther ?"  The  answer  would  seem  easy  for  any  one  at 
all  acquainted  with  the  spirit  of  Gospel  obedience : 


FOUNDERS   OF  THE   INSTITUTION.  207 

Because  the  position,  and  the  relations,  and  the  occu- 
pations pertaining  to  this  unnatural  mode  of  life  are 
such  as  Heaven  has  not  chosen  to  ordain  and  bless  for 
the  religious  development  and  sanctification  of  human 

souls. 

One  morning,  meeting  after  mass  a  young  sister 
who  had  been  absent  from  the  service,  Mother  Seton 
looked  her  steadfastly  in  the  face,  and  asked,  "Why 
did  you  not  come  to  our  Lord  for  a  recompense  this 
morning  ?"     "  Tilother,''  answered  the  sister,  "  I  felt  a 
little  weak,  and  took  a  cup  of  coffee  before  mass." 
"Ah!    my  dear   child!"  said   Mother   Seton,   "how 
could  you  sell  your  God  for  a  miserable  cup  of  cof- 
fee?"    Nothing,  it  has  been  well  said,  weakens  the 
moral  sense  more  than  hair-breadth  distinctions  and 
minute  observances.     i\Iother  Seton's  life  for  a  series 
of  years  was  full  of  these.      She  rivaled  the  Hindoos 
in   self-mortification.       She  would   deny  herself  fine 
writing  paper,  and  for  pens  she  used  the  stumps  of 
quills  abandoned  by  her  pupils. 

Another  death  soon  succeeded  in  the  institution :  it 
was  that  of  the  :\Iother  Superior's  second  daughter,  a 
lovely  girl  in  her  fourteenth  year.     In  her  last  mo- 
ments she  cried  to  her  confessor,  "Father,  is  there  any 
harm  to  hope  that  I  shall  go  to  heaven  as  soon  as  I 
am  dead  ?"     He  replied,  not  if  that  hope  was  grounded 
on  her  own  merits.      "  What  merits,"  she  cried,  "  can 
such  a  child  as  I  have?"     So  little  comfort  can  the 
contemplation  of  our  own  good  works  afford  in  the 
dying  hour  I     Again  she  exclaimed,  "  I  hope  that  my 
sufferings  will  be  accepted  as  my  penance  without  go- 
ing to  Purgatory.      Oh!  hoio  I  icould  like  to  go  to 
heaven.  /" 


208  MISS  bunkley'.s  book. 

In  1816  two  more  of  the  sisters  died;  one,  only 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  brought  np  in  luxury  in  the 
West  Indies,  and  w^hose  delicate  hands  often  "bled  from 
exposure  during  the  winter  in  performing  the  work  al- 
lotted to  her.  The  following  year  witnessed  the  death 
of  four  more  of  the  sisters,  and  the  next  year  three 
more.  How  the  austerities  which  hastened  the  deaths 
of  so  many  young  persons  affected  the  health  of  the 
Mother  Superior  herself,  may  be  inferred  from  the  fol- 
lowing confession,  in  a  letter  of  hers  to  the  Eev.  M. 
Brute:  " Eules,  prudence,  subjection,  opinions,  etc., 
are  dreadful  walls  to  a  burning  soul  wild  as  mine. 
For  me,  I  am  like  a  fiery  horse  I  had  when  a  girl, 
whom  they  tried  to  break  by  making  him  drag  a  heavy 
cart ;  and  the  poor  beast  was  so  humbled  that  he  could 
never  more  be  inspired  by  whips  or  caresses,  and 
w^asted  to  a  skeleton  till  he  died ! "  Mrs.  Seton's  death 
occurred  in  1820. 


THE    FEAST    OF    CORPUS    CHRISTI.  209 


CHAPTER  XLL 

THE   FEAST   OF   CORPUS   CHRISTI. 

Before  reaching  the  closing  circumstances  of  my 
stay  at  St.  Joseph's,  I  may  pause  to  describe  the  cere- 
monies performed  at  that  institution  in  commemora- 
tion of  a  festival  of  peculiar  solemnity  which  was  cel- 
ebrated during  my  residence  there.  It  was  the  day 
of  Corpus  Christi,  or  the  Feast  of  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment, termed,  according  to  the  tenets  of  the  Boman 
Catholic  Church,  the  Body  of  Christ. 

On  the  morning  of  that  day  the  sisterhood  assem- 
bled in  the  community-room  and  novitiate,  and,  at  the 
sound  of  the  bell,  formed  themselves  in  the  "rank," 
and  walked  in  procession  to  the  chapel.  Each  sister 
held  in  one  hand  her  chaplet  beads,  and  in  the  other  a 
candle  taken  from  a  box  near  the  door  as  she  went 
out.  During  this  space  of  time  all  were  engaged  in 
saying,  in  a  low  tone,  the  "Ave  Maria." 

Arriving  in  the  chapel,  after  the  usual  ceremony  of 
kissing  the  back  of  the  seats  before  them,  a  chant  was 
commenced  by  the  choir ;  and  the  Superior,  attended 
by  two  other  Lazarists,  entered  the  sanctuary,  clothed 
in  rich  and  costly  vestments.  The  altar  had  been 
splendidly  decorated  for  the  occasion,  and  the  statue 
of  the  Virgin  wreathed  with  flowers.     The  Host  was 


210  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

then  for  a  moment  elevated  and  exposed  to  view  ;  then 
it  was  veiled  from  sight  with  a  covering,  on  which  was 
inscribed,  in  Latin,  "Behold  the  Lamb  of  God." 

After  the  saying  of  a  few  prayers,  one  of  the  priests 
took  the  sacrament  and  advanced  to  the  railing  which 
separates  the  sanctuary  from  the  chapel.  There  he 
was  joined  by  the  others  in  attendance.  Several  al- 
tar-boys raised  above  the  heads  of  the  priests  a  mag- 
nificent canopy.  The  choir  again  commenced  a  sol- 
emn chant.  The  sacristan  then  advanced  from  the 
sacristy,  and  lighted  the  candle  held  by- that  one  of 
the  sisters  who  sat  at  the  end  of  the  nearest  bench. 
The  next  sister  then  lighted  her  candle  by  means  of 
her  neighbor's,  and  so  on,  until  the  whole  number  had 
done  likewise,  and  all  the  candles  were  lighted  in  the 
hands  of  the  kneeling  sisters. 

This  completed,  the  priests,  carrying  the  Host,  with 
the  canopy  elevated  above  them,  marched  slowly  down 
the  aisle,  while  every  head  was  bowed  in  silent  adora- 
tion. When  they  had  reached  the  door,  a  rap  was 
given  by  the  Mother  Superior,  upon  which  the  whole 
assemblage,  after  kissing  the  seats  as  usual,  rose  and 
walked  in  procession,  each  sister  with  her  lighted  can- 
dle, the  choir  accompanying  them  and  chanting,  in 
which  the  priests  joined. 

The  procession  crossed  the  Superior's  garden  and 
the  adjacent  grounds  to  a  small  and  beautiful  chapel,* 
which  the  priests  entered,  placing  the  sacrament  upon 
the  altar  while  the  "  Benediction"  was  sung.     During 

*  This  is  a  small  chapel  in  the  boarders'  play-grounds,  called  the 
Chapel  of  Sister  Bernardine,  it  being  built  by  her  when  she  was  di- 
rectress in  the  academy  by  donations  obtained  from  the  scholars. 


THE    FEAST    OF    COEPUS    CHRISTI.  211 

this  period  the  sisters  knelt  upon  the  ground,  kissing 
the  earth  as  they  knelt  and  before  they  rose.  The 
sacrament  was  then  taken  from  this  chapel,  and  the 
procession  moved  on  to  that  of  St.  Joseph,  which  is 
situated  in  another  part  of  the  grounds,  called  "  The 
Sisters'  Garden,"  or  the  community-ground.  "  Bene- 
diction" was  sung  here  also,  and  the  same  form  was 
observed  as  before,  both  in  and  out  of  the  chapel. 
Then  the  sacrament  was  carried  through  the  commu- 
nity-room and  the  novitiate,  a  path  being  formed  in 
one  of  the  rooms,  bordered  with  rose-leaves  and  ever- 
greens, through  which  the  procession  walked. 

ilfter  crossing  the  corridor  and  entering  the  chapel 
of  the  institution,  the  ceremonies  were  there  ended 
v/ith  a  benediction.  The  lights  were  extinguished, 
and,  after  the  usual  form  of  kissing  the  seats  in  front 
of  each,  and  repeating  a  few  prayers,  the  community 
once  more  arranged  themselves  in  the  rank  and  pro- 
ceeded to  their  respective  rooms. 

The  boarders  of  the  institution  followed  in  the  rear 
of  the  procession  of  sisters  throughout  the  whole  of 
these  imposing  ceremonies. 


212  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

A   SECOND   LETTEE   FROM   HOME. 

A  SECOND  letter  was  at  lengtli  received  at  the  insti- 
tution on  the — th  of  September,  1854,  from  my  rela- 
tives, and  upon  its  receipt  I  was  ordered  to  appear  be- 
fore the  mistress  of  novices.  Kneeling  at  her  feet,  I 
listened  to  the  letter  as  she  read  it  aloud.  It  was 
from  my  sister.  She  stated  that  she  would  come  for 
me  in  a  few  days,  and  that  I  must  return  home  with 
her. 

This  information  excited  greatly  the  displeasure  of 
the  mistress  of  novices.  Having  finished  its  perusal, 
she  seized  me  with  a  tight  grasp  by  the  arm,  saying, 
"Do  you  think  you  will  ever  return  home?"  I  an- 
swered that  I  did  not  know,  and  began  to  tremble  vi- 
olently, as  well  with  agitation  as  with  dread,  such  is 
the  awe  that  an  official  inspires  at  the  institution. 
This  enraged  her.  She  struck  me  upon  the  forehead, 
and,  roughly  thrusting  me  from  her,  she  ordered  me 
to  go  and  kneel  before  the  altar  of  St.  Joseph  at  one 
end  of  the  room,  and  repeat  some  prayers  as  a  penance. 

I  obeyed  mechanically,  but  no  prayer,  no  tears 
came  to  relieve  my  feelings ;  cold  and  almost  stupe- 
fied, I  remained  motionless  as  the  statue  before  which 


A   SECOND   LETTER   FROM   HOME.  213 

I  was  bent.  An  hour  and  more  passed  ere  I  was 
roused  from,  my  stupor  ;  but  a  stormy  conflict  was 
raging  w^ithin  my  breast.  The  agonizing  conscious- 
ness had  a  second  time  with  terrible  force  come  upon 
me  that  I  was  eternally  severed  from  all  that  made 
life  dear. 

The  bell  rang  for  meditation  in  the  chapel,  and  this 
call  I  must  obey.  Had  it  been  some  other  kind  of 
punishment  that  was  allotted  me,  this  would  have 
given  variation  to  my  employment,  and  relieved  the 
fatigue ;  but  the  signal  only  called  me  to  renew  the 
exhausting  effort  of  maintaining  for  a  long  time  the 
same  painful  posture.  I  rose,  took  my  place  in  the 
rank,  and  repaired  to  the  chapel,  where  another  hour 
was  spent  on  my  knees  in  prayer  and  meditation,  as 
far  as  bodily  constraint  and  mental  distress  would  per- 
mit the  exercise  of  thought. 

A  week  elapsed,  and  on  Sunday  I  asked  permission 
to  reply  to  the  letter  received  from  my  friends.  As  it 
was  a  day  usually  appropriated  in  part  to  the  writing 
of  letters — which,  however,  must  be  written  after  high 
mass,  and  submitted  to  the  inspection  of  the  Mother 
Superior,  by  whom  they  are  forwarded  at  her  pleasure 
— I  had  some  hope  of  obtaining  my  request.  But  per- 
mission was  denied  me,  with  an  assurance  that  it 
would  be  but  a  loss  of  time,  and  useless  for  me  to  do 
so.  I  was  ordered  to  the  refectory  for  the  purpose  of 
cleaning  knives  and  forks.  I  had  been  but  a  short 
time  engaged  in  this  employment,  when  the  "reli- 
gieuse"  who  had  charge  of  this  department  suddenly 
rushed  toward  me,  and  seizing  the  knife  I  was  clean- 
ing, drew  it  through  my  hand,  commencing  an  angry 


214  M18S  bunkley's  book. 

rebuke  for  some  pretended  fault,  and  threatening  to 
report  me.  This  unprovoked  cruelty  so  startled  me, 
already  enfeebled  as  I  was  by  severe  labor  and  pro- 
tracted fatigue,  that  I  fell  in  a  spasm  on  the  floor, 
striking  my  head  against  a  bench.  A  young  novice, 
who  had  seen  me  fall,  dragged  me  into  the  passage, 
supported  my  head,  and  sent  another  to  report  to  an 
officer  my  situation.  Before  the  officer  came  I  had  re- 
vived, and  was  proceeding  down  the  corridor,  aided 
by  two  sisters,  when  I  met  her.  She  conveyed  me  to 
the  infirmary,  asking  me,  at  the  same  time,  what  was 
the  matter.  Fearing  to  tell  her,  I  remained  silent ; 
but  as  she  insisted  on  an  answer,  I  related  to  her  the 
occurrence.  She  made  no  reply,  and  did  not  seem  to 
entertain  much  sympathy  for  me.  She  left  me  on  a 
bed  in  the  infirmary,  but  soon  after  returned,  and  made 
me  get  up  and  go  back  to  my  work  in  the  refectory. 

I  ought  to  say  that  a  sister  must  obtain  permission 
to  write  on  the  Saturday  preceding ;  should  she  fail 
to  do  this,  it  is  not  allowed  her  to  ask  the  privilege. 
But  often,  when  this  is  done,  the  request  is  refused, 
and  the  petitioner  is  told  that  it  would  be  "  a  loss  of 
time."  I  have  more  than  once  received  this  answer. 
All  letters  written  by  the  sisters  are  given  to  the  mis- 
tress of  novices  for  her  perusal.  Many  of  them  never 
reach  their  destination,  being  destroyed  by  her  on  the 
spot.  Others  are  sent  to  the  Superior's  room,  but  the 
writers  never  know  what  becomes  of  them.  I  have 
seen  the  mistress  of  novices  engaged  in  reading  and 
tearing  to  pieces  letters  which  have  been  sent  to  the 
novitiate,  but  were  never  destined  to  reach  those  who 
perhaps  were  anxiously  awaiting  their  arrival  at  home. 


A   SECOND    LETTER   FROM   HOME.  215 

Many  a  time  have  I  seen  sisters  kneeling  before  the 
mistress  of  novices,  the  tears  streaming  from  their 
eyes  as  they  Hstened  to  letters  read  by  her,  but  which 
they  were  not  permitted  to  hold  in  their  own  hands, 
nor  look  at,  to  trace  the  beloved  characters  of  a  moth- 
er's or  a  sister's  writing. 


216  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTEE  XLIII. 

MORTALITY   AXD    DEATH   AT    ST.  JOSEPH'S. 

It  is  on  all  hands  acknowledged  that  the  life  of 
monastic  and  conventual  establishments  is  most  un- 
favorable to  bodily  health.  Those  even  who  are  chief- 
ly interested  in  upholding  these  institutions  make  no 
attempt  to  conceal  the  fact.  On  the  contrary,  I  have 
shown,  and  of  this  farther  evidence  will  be  given  here- 
after, that  from  the  very  outset  the  system  adopted  at 
St.  Joseph's  has  been  disastrous  and  fatal  in  the  ex- 
treme, so  far  as  sickness,  disease,  and  death  are  ev- 
idences of  its  workings.  In  the  second  year  after  the 
foundation  of  the  society,  which  commenced  with  only 
eighteen  members,  three  of  them  died;  in  1816,  two 
more  ;  the  following  year,  four ;  and  the  next,  three. 
I  have  already  testified  that,  within  the  ten  months  of 
my  sojourn  at  St.  Joseph's,  no  fewer  than  fourteen 
deaths,  to  my  personal  knowledge,  occurred.  Nor  does 
the  Mother  Superior,  in  her  remarkable  letter  written 
after  my  escape,  controvert  this  point ;  she  maintains 
only  that  this  excessive  mortality  is  the  result  of  the 
pious  and  charitable  exertions  to  which  the  sisters  de- 
vote themselves  in  attending  hospitals  and  minister- 
ing to  the  sick.  I  leave  it  for  an  impartial  judgment 
to  decide  whether  it  may  not  much  more  rationally  be 


MORTALITY   AND    DEATH   AT    ST.  JOSEPH'S.      217 

ascribed  to.  the  exhausting  and  depressing  effects  of 
unremitted  and  laborious  servile  "  duties"  and  devo- 
tional exercises,  the  forms  and  attitudes  of  which  re- 
semble rather  the  varieties  of  torture  than  the  emploj- 
ments  of  Christian  meditation  and  worship.  I  leave 
it  for  a  candid  discrimination  to  say  whether  such  be 
not  the  inevitable  result  of  protracted  and  reiterated 
vigils,  of  exposure  to  a  damp  and  chilly  atmosphere, 
of  mental  excitement  fed  by  superstitious  fears  and  ap- 
prehensions, of  unnatural  severment  from  all  the  at- 
tachments of  life,  and  seclusion  under  perpetual  re- 
straints. 

I  myself,  while  a  member  of  the  community,  was 
often  sick,  worn  down  and  utterly  prostrated  by  the 
services  daily  and  uninterruptedly  required  of  me. 
Even  while  engaged  in  performing  the  duties,  compar- 
atively lighter,  which  were  enjoined  upon  me  as  a 
teacher  in  the  academy,  it  would  frequently  happen 
that  the  lassitude  of  body  and  mind  became  almost 
insupportable.  In  addition  to  instructing  a  class  of 
pupils  in  the  French  language,  and  teaching  others  in 
music,  I  was  required  to  perform  a  similar  task  for 
such  of  the  novices  as  evinced  any  talent  for  vocal  or 
instrumental  music,  in  order  that  the  vacancies  occur- 
ring from  time  to  time  in  the  choir  might  be  appropri- 
ately supplied.  I  have  often  sat  for  hours,  without  a 
moment's  intermission  or  rest,  at  the  piano,  and  after 
that  have  been  occupied  at  work  in  the  refectoiy  or 
other  departments. 

If  illness  and  a  shattered  constitution — the  ordinary 
and  necessary  results  of  such  a  system* — had  been 

*  The  Rev.  M.  Hobart  Seymour,  a  distinguished  clergyman  of  the 

K 


218  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tlie  only  suiFering  brought  upon  me  hy  the  endurance 
of  these  inflictions,  I  might  still  be  an  inmate  of  St. 
Joseph's — an  unwilling  inmate,  doubtless,  since  I  had 
become  thoroughly  convinced  of  my  own  mistake  in 
entering  that  institution.  But  this  alone  would  not 
have  proved  sufficient  to  impel  me  to  the  desperate 
venture  of  an  attempt  to  escape  from  its  walls.  I  call 
it  a  desperate  venture,  because  the  failure  to  accomplish 
my  object  would  have  been  attended  with  the  most 
bitter  consequences.  But  other  apprehensions  were 
combined  with  those  of  bodily  suffering  to  impel  me 
in  this  effort  to  flee  from  a  place  the  atmosphere  of 
which  was  dangerous  and  contaminating. 

I  entered  the  institution  of  St.  Joseph's  under  the 
complacent  impression  and  belief  tliat  among  the  "  Sis- 
English  Church,  stated  in  a  lecture  some  time  since,  that  a  gentle- 
man, high  in  official  position  at  Rome,  who  had  been  a  visitor  with  the 
Cardinal  Vicar  in  the  various  nunneries  of  that  city,  gave  him  the  fol- 
lowing facts  from  his  own  positive  knowledge.  He  remarked  that, 
"  entering  these  nunneries  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen  or  eighteen,  for 
a  few  years  the  nuns  seemed  sufficiently  happy  ;  but  that  afterward, 
having  discovered  the  extent  of  the  step  they  had  taken,  some  of  them 
pined,  and  drooped,  and  withered,  and  died  ;  while  others,  struggling 
against  it  for  a  time,  in  the  end  gave  way  to  despair,  and  died  of  mad- 
ness. He  stated  that,  of  his  own  experience,  the  majority  of  these 
young  nuns  died  deranged  before  twenty-five  years  of  age  !" — 
Lecture  at  Bath,  England,  June  7th,  1852. 

In  the  concluding  portion  of  this  volume  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
give  the  statement  of  an  unimpeachable  witness,  the  excellent  Dr.  De 
Sanctis,  now  a  minister  of  the  Waldensian  Church  in  Piedmont,  but  for- 
merly a  Roman  Catholic  priest  of  distinction,  curate  of  the  Magdalene 
at  Rome,  and  confessor  at  a  number  of  convents  in  that  city.  In  a 
communication  made  expressly  for  the  present  work,  he  gives  it  as  the 
result  of  personal  observation,  that  "  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  nuns 
die  in  their  youth  ;  and  a  great  part  of  the  rest  drag  a  miserable  exist- 
ence in  continual  disease  and  suffering." 


MORTALITT    AND    DEATH   AT    ST.  JOSEPH'S.      219 

ters  of  Charity"  I  should  iind  an  entire  devotedness, 
a  pure  and  unselfish  dedication  to  the  service  of  the 
Almighty.  I  had  heard  and  read  so  much  of  their  pi- 
ous lives,  their  earnest  efforts  to  comfort  the  afflicted, 
relieve  the  sick,  and  console  the  dying,  that  I  enter- 
tained the  most  exalted  ideas  of  their  Christian  perfec- 
tion. During  the  short  time  of  my  visit  as  a  visitor, 
my  limited  observation,  together  with  the  assurances 
of  the  Superior,  confirmed  these  favorable  sentiments, 
and  I  became  a  member  of  the  community,  prepared, 
under  circumstances  the  most  propitious,  to  look  upon 
every  thing  with  an  admiring  eye.  Gradually  this  il- 
lusion was  dissipated.  The  rose  tint  gave  place  to 
the  sombre  hue  of  the  reality  ;  my  golden  anticipa- 
tions one  by  one  were  falsified  ;  and  the  ardent  enthu- 
siasm with  which  I  entered,  from  fever  heat  cooled 
down  to  zero. 

I  had  no  doubt  that  the  great  number  of  individu- 
als in  the  sisterhood  were  perfectly  sincere  and  con- 
scientious in  the  practice  of  their  devotions  and  the 
discharge  of  their  duties.  But  among  these,  so  much 
superstition,  weakness,  and  folly  prevailed  as  to  ex- 
cite contempt,  or  at  least  pity.  The  idolatrous  wor- 
ship of  the  Virgin  Mary  was  carried  to  such  a  pitch 
as  could  not  fail  to  shock  a  mind  that  retained  any 
vestige  of  scriptural  belief  and  conviction.*     The  re- 

*  The  impulse  that  has  been  given  of  late  years  by  the  Romish 
priesthood  to  what  they  call  "the  devotion  to  Mary,"  aas  carried  that 
worship  to  an  excess  and  exaggeration  almost  inconceivable.  Con- 
nected with  this  increase  of  a  blasphemous  homage  is  an  endeavor  to 
represent  the  Virgin  Mary  as,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  the  Deity  of  xcom- 
en,  and,  of  course,  especially  of  nuns.  Thus  the  famous  M.  de  Ge- 
noude,  one  of  the  most  eminent  ecclesiastics  of  the  Romish  Church  in 


220  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

spect  paid  to  pictures  and  images,  tliougli  designed,  ac- 
cording to  the  doctrines  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Chm-ch, 

France,  has  expressed  this  tendency  in  these  remarkable  words : 
''  Mary  was  the  repairer  of  Eve's  offense,  even  as  our  Lord  was  the 
repairer  of  the  offense  of  Adam  /"  ("  Marie  fut  la  reparatrice  de  la  faute 
d'Eve,  comme  Notre-Seigneur  fut  Ic  reparateur  de  la  faute  d'Adam." — 
— Tableau  historique  du  premier  siccle  de  VEglise.)  Another  writer, 
M.  Oswald,  professor  of  theology  in  the  Roman  Catholic  vSeminary  of 
Paderborn,  in  Germany,  makes  the  following  more  full  statement  of 
the  same  idea  :  "  Mary  was  not  a  human  creature  like  ourselves  ;  she 
was  The  Woman,  as  Christ  was  The  Man.  The  work  of  redemption 
revolves  upon  two  names — Jesus  Christ,  the  God-Man,  and  Mary,  the 
Viro-in-Mother  of  God.  For  this  reason  we  are  disposed  to  erect  by  the 
side  of  Christology  a  Manalogy,  of  lohich  this  should  be  the  creed :  I  be- 
lieve in  Mary,  born  without  sin,  and  exempt  from  faults  throughout  her 
entire  Ufe  ;  the  Virgin-Mother  of  the  Lord  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  at 
the  same  time  by  her  own  free  consent ;  co-operating,  although  in 
dependence  upon  her  divine  Son,  in  the  act  of  redemption ;  perform- 
ing therein  a  part  without  which  the  work  of  Jesus  Christ  would  not 
be  complete  ;  the  dispenser,  in  the  Church,  of  certain  graces  which, 
though  ultimately  owing  to  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  are  found  nev- 
ertheless in  a  certain  causal  dependence  upon  her  active  participation 
in  the  redemption  of  man.  She  occupies  this  place  in  the  quality  of 
spiritual  mother  of  the  human  kind,  and  as  special  representative  of  her 
sex  in  the  xcork  of  reparation ^ — {Marialogic  dogmatique,  1850,  p.  1,  2.) 
But  there  is  a  deeper  abyss  of  absurdity  and  blasphemy  to  which 
these  worshipers  of  the  Virgin  Mary  descend.  "  We  assert,"  says  M. 
Oswald,  "  that  Mary  is  co-present  in  the  Eucharist ;  this  is  an  inevita- 
ble consequence  of  our  Marianic  theory,  and  we  do  not  shrink  from 
any  of  its  consequences.  If  iMary,  as  Mother  of  God,  took  a  real  part 
in  our  redemption,  this  part,  in  order  that  it  might  not  be  lost,  must 
have  been  bequeathed  to  the  Church  by  its  Founder,  and  must  be  trans- 
mitted in  the  Eucharist.  It  is  needless  to  add,  that,  in  accordance  with 
the  eucharistic  doctrine  of  the  Church,  this  presence  of  Mary  in  the  Eu- 
charist is  veritable  and  real,  not  simply  ideal  or  figurative.  Women  re- 
ceive more  in  the  Eucharist  than  do  men.  They  receive,  in  addition  to 
the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  is  common  to  all,  a  supplement  of  3Ia- 
rianic  grace  /" — {Marialogie,  etc.,  p.  176,  foil.) 

As  a  single  specimen  of  the  nature  of  the  supplications  addressed  to 
the  Virgin  Mary  wliich  are  piit  in  the  mouths  of  the  multitudes  under 


MOKTALITr   AND   DEATH   AT   ST.  JOSEPH'S.      221 

to  serve  for  the  simple  direction  of  the  mind  to  a  devout 
contemplation  of  their  subjects,  is  here  practiced  in  a 
manner  that  savors  of  the  grossest  idolatry.  To  give 
a  soHtary  instance  :  I  have  spoken  of  the  statue  of  St. 
Vincent,  the  founder  of  the  order,  which  stands  in  the 
Superior's  garden,  where  sometimes  we  were  permit- 
ted to  work.  This  iigure  is  held  in  special  estimation. 
No  one  passed  it  without  a  lowly  obeisance,  and  I  have 
often  heard  it  addressed  as  a  living  being.  Many  of 
the  sisters  would  approach  it  timidly,  with  hands 
clasped  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  and,  after  a  profound 
salutation,  exclaim,  in  beseeching  tones,  '^  Pray  for 
me,  father  r 

The  old  or  "professed  sisters,"  whose  physical  con- 
stitution has  enabled  them  to  pass  through  the  ordeal 
of  years,  are  treated  with  much  more  leniency,  and 
lead  an  easier  life  than  the  novices.  Many  of  those 
who  are  rather  advanced  in  age  occupy  their  OAvn 
rooms,  where  they  are  served  by  the  younger  sisters, 
and  are  not  compelled  strictly  to  attend  to  all  the  serv- 
ices. In  the  community -room  they  sometimes  have 
"parties,"  with  music  and  refreshments,  to  which  the 
priests  are  invited.*  On  such  occasions,  some  of  the 
younger  sisters  are  admitted,  or  allowed  a  share  in  the 

the  spiritual  care  of  the  Romish  priests,  we  give  the  following  extract 
of  a  prayer  which  is  in  use  at  Rome,  and  is  accompanied  by  the  prom- 
ise of  "  an  indulgence  of  one  hundred  years,  granted  by  the  supreme 
pontiffs  Gregory  XV.  and  Clement  XII."  It  begins  thus  :  "  O  purest 
and  most  immaculate  ever- Virgin  Mary  !  Daughter  of  the  Everlasting 
Father,  Mother  of  the  Everlasting  Son,  Spouse  of  the  Holy  Ghost! 
August  and  living  Temple  of  the  Most  Holy  Trinity  !  Jewel  of  purity, 
spotless  mirror,"  etc.,  etc. 

*  At  Rome  they  act  comedies  and  tragedies  in  the  convents.     Seo 
De  Sanctis'  letter  appended  to  this  work. 


222  iii;<^  blMvley's  book. 

delicacies  provided,  altliougli,  for  the  most  part,  it  is 
their  duty  to  prepare  them.  Of  occurrences  in  the 
community-room  I  can,  however,  give  no  minute  par- 
ticukrs  from  personal  observation,  as  the  "seminary 
sisters"  arc  not  allowed  to  enter  that  apartment  imless 
summoned  to  the  presence  of  the  Superior,  or  sent 
thither  with  a  message  ;  but  enough  is  known  outside 
to  excite  sorrow  and  disgust. 


NO  BIBLE.  223 


CHAPTEE  XLIV. 

NO    BIBLE. 

It  is  well  known  to  every  one  at  all  conversant  with 
ecclesiastical  history  that  the  perusal  of  the  Scriptures 
by  the  laity  has  at  all  times  been  discouraged,  and  on 
repeated  occasions  forbidden  by  the  Eoman  Catholic 
hierarchy.*     When  charged  with  this  criminal  with- 

*  This  fact,  plain  and  obvious  as  it  is  to  the  reader  of  history,  tells 
with  such  power  upon  the  unscriptural  character  of  the  Romish  sys- 
tem, that  the  priests  can  only  meet  it  with  an  audacious  denial.  In 
this  country,  especially,  they  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  Church 
of  Rome  gives  full  liberty  to  read  the  Bible  and  encourages  its  use,  for- 
bidding only  the  perusal  of  a  Protestant  translation.  The  means  of 
answering  so  barefaced  a  falsehood  are  not  always  at  hand  in  a  pop- 
ular discussion,  and  thus  they  often  succeed  in  producing  the  desired 
impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  uninformed.  We  shall  give  here  in 
brief  a  few  statements  illustrative  of  the  treatment  that  the  Bible  has 
received  at  the  hands  of  the  supreme  pontiffs  of  that  Church,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  Bible-burnings  and  confiscations  that  occur  so  frequent- 
ly in  our  own  day  in  Roman  Catholic  countries,  where  no  attempt  is 
made  to  conceal  the  enmity  of  Romanism  for  the  word  of  God. 

The  Council  of  Trent — to  go  no  farther  back — declared  its  anathema 
against  any  one  who  should  read  the  Bible  without  a  license  from  his 
bishop  or  inquisitor,  that  license  to  be  founded  on  a  certificate  from 
his  confessor  that  he  is  in  no  danger  of  receiving  injury  from  so  doing. 

Pope  Pius  VII.,  in  1816,  denounces  in  a  special  bull  the  Bible  Soci- 
ety, and  expresses  himself  "  shocked"  by  the  circulation  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, which  he  characterizes  as  a  "most  crafty  device,  by  which  the 
very  foundations  of  religion  are  undermined;"  a  "pestilence,"  which 


224  MISS  BUNK  ley's  book. 

holding  of  God's  word  from  men,  it  is  sometimes  al- 
leged, by  way  of  excuse,  tliat  in  former  times  the  igno- 
rance of  the  people  was  an  obstacle  to  the  right  under- 
standing of  the  precepts  and  doctrines  of  the  Bible,  and 
also  that  the  scarcity  and  high  price  of  copies  of  the 
Scriptures  prevented  their  circulation.  This  apology 
may  be  readily  admitted  with  reference  to  that  period 
of  which  the  assertion  is  true ;  but  it  should  be  ob- 
served that  even  in  the  present  enlightened  age,  no  en- 
couragement is  held  out  in  countries  where  Romanism 
predominates  for  the  examination  of  that  holy  book, 

it  behooves  him  "  to  remedy  and  aboHsh  ;"  "  a  defilement  of  the  faith, 
eminently  dangerous  to  souls."  He  congratulates  the  primate  to 
whom  his  letter  is  addressed  on  the  zeal  he  had  shown  "  to  detect  and 
overthrow  the  impious  machinations  of  these  innovators  ;"  and  repre- 
sents it  as  an  episcopal  duty  to  expose  "the  wickedness  of  their  nefa- 
rious scheme,"  and  openly  to  publish  that  "  the  Bible  printed  by  here- 
tics is  to  be  numbered  among  other  prohibited  books,  conformably  to 
the  rules  of  the  Index  ;  for  it  is  evident  from  experience  that  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  wheyi  circulated  in  the  vulgar  tongue,  have,  through  the  te- 
merity of  men,  produced  more  harm  than  benefit.'''' 

The  same  pope  issued  in  1819  a  bull  on  the  subject  of  the  circula- 
tion of  the  Scriptures  in  the  Irish  schools.  He  speaks  of  this  as  a 
*'  sowing  of  tares,"  and  that  the  children  are  thereby  infected  with  the 
'■^  fatal  poison  of  depraved  doctrines  ;"  and  exhorts  the  Irish  bishops  to 
endeavor  to  prevent  the  wheat  from  being  "  choked  by  the  tares." 

In  1824,  Pope  Leo  XH.  published  an  encyclical  letter,  in  which  he 
adverts  to  a  certain  society,  vulgarly  called  the  Bible  Society,  as  spread- 
ing itself  throughout  the  whole  world,  and  goes  on  to  term,  the  Protest- 
ant Bible  the  "  Gospel  of  the  Devil." 

The  late  Pope  Gregory  XVI.,  in  his  encyclical  letter,  after  referring 
to  the  decree  of  the  Council  of  Trent  already  mentioned,  ratifies  that 
and  all  similar  enactments  of  the  Church  in  these  terms  :  "  Moreover, 
we  confirm  and  renew  the  decrees  recited  above,  delivered  in  former 
times  by  apostolic  authority,  against  the  publication,  distribution,  read- 
ing, and  possessing  of  books  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  translated  into  the 
vulgar  tongue.^'' 


NO   BIBLE.  225 

nor  is  even  the  erroneous  translation  of  it  wliicli  lias 
been  sanctioned  by  the  authorities  of  tlie  Church  of 
Rome  freely  circulated  for  popular  perusal.  But  in 
the  United  States  no  such  predominancy  enables  the 
priesthood  to  expel  the  Scriptures  from  publicity,  and 
here,  accordingly,  the  charge  is  indignantly  denied,  and 
the  assertion  is  exultingly  made  that  the  Bible  is  kept 
at  all  the  Catholic  book-stores,  and  all  Catholics  are  at 
liberty  to  purchase  and  read  it.  Without  entering 
upon  a  discussion  of  this  statement,  I  will  only  appeal 
to  Catholics  themselves  to  answer  truly  whether  their 
priests  or  confessors  are  in  the  habit  of  recommending 
the  habitual  study  of  the  Scriptures  to  them  individu- 
ally. The  fact  that  no  such  reference  or  direction  is 
habitually  made  by  the  priesthood  to  the  oracles  of 
God  sufficiently  proves  their  indifference,  if  not  their 
hostility  to  it. 

During  the  whole  period  of  my  connection  with  the 
Church  of  Bome,  no  such  instruction  or  counsel  was 
given  me  by  my  spiritual  director ;  and  while  a  resi- 
dent at  St.  Joseph's  I  never  saio  a  Bihle^  and  I  had 
frequent  access  to  the  library.  ]\Iy  own  testimony 
would  certainly  go  to  confirm  the  general  statement, 
the  correctness  of  which  is  corroborated  by  the  entire 
policy  of  Bomanism,  to  subject  the  people  to  the  con- 
trol of  the  clergy.  Apprehensive  lest  the  frequent  and 
unrestrained  study  of  the  sacred  Scriptures  would 
prove  a  serious  antagonism  to  their  efforts  for  enslav- 
ing the  mind,  the  priests  carefully  abstain  from  en- 
couraging their  dissemination  wherever  they  do  not 
dare  to  oppose  it  openly.  Another  consideration 
doubtless  acts  upon  them.  Some  of  the  peculiar  dog- 
K2 


226  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

mas  of  Homanism,  such  as  that  of  Purgatory  and  that 
respecting  indulgences,  are  effectual  means  of  augment- 
ing the  revenues  of  the  Church ;  and  these  subjects 
of  belief  are  so  flimsily  supported  even  by  their  own 
interpretation  of  Scripture,  that  they  would  be  reject- 
ed if  examined  by  every  intelligent  student  of  the  holy 
volume. 

The  books  permitted  and  recommended  for  reading 
at  St.  Joseph's  are  the  "Lives  of  the  Saints,"  extracts 
from  the  "  Roman  Martyrology"  and  the  "  Confer- 
ences." These  last  are  a  compilation  of  rules  and 
regulations  to  be  observed  by  the  Order  of  Sisters 
of  Charity,  as  prepared  by  their  founder,  St. Vincent. 
They  contain  much  matter  not  suitable  for  edification, 
nor  calculated  to  promote  purity  of  thought. 


A   DKEAM   OF    FEEEDOM.  227 


CHAPTER  XLY, 

A   DREAM    OF    FEEEDOM. 

In  a  former  part  of  this  narrative  I  have  made  al- 
lusion to  the  careful  prevention  of  confidential  inter- 
course between  members  of  the  community.  The  reg- 
ulations enjoining  silence,  except  at  a  certain  hour,  are 
strictly  enforced  ;  and  even  at  that  period  conversation 
is  allowed  only  on  permitted  subjects  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  superiors.  For  two  sisters  to  engage  in  pri- 
vate interchange  of  thought  "would  be  an  offense  which, 
if  known,  w^ould  unavoidably  be  visited  with  severe 
punishment.  The  want  of  some  sympathizing  friend 
to  whom  I  might  unburden  my  feelings  and  suffer- 
ings, or  to  whom,  in  turn,  I  might  afford  consola- 
tion and  support,  was  bitterly  felt.  Outward  signs  of 
the  mental  conflict  must  imperatively  be  suppressed. 
When  almost  overwhelmed  with  sensations  of  utter 
desolation,  I  was  forced  to  veil,  by  a  powerful  effort, 
my  wretchedness.  The  death-like  pallor  of  the  coun- 
tenance, and  often  the  traces  of  tears  that  could  not  be 
restrained,  would  perhaps  betray  the  agony  of  soul. 
But  I  must  be  calm  and  collected  in  manner,  and 
breathe  no  syllable  that  might  express  my  misery. 
Every  native  impulse  of  the  heart,  every  prompting 
of  affection,  every  thought  of  sympathy  and  kindness, 


228 

must  be  subdued  and  silenced :  such,  it  is  thought, 
is  the  duty  of  all  who  would  render  themselves  worthy 
to  wear  the  "holy  habit." 

Often  have  I  gazed  from  my  window  upon  the  pic- 
turesque grounds  that  environed  my  prison.  How 
green  and  beautiful  the  trees,  their  slender  branches 
bending  in  the  vesper  breeze !  The  rose  of  lovely  tint, 
and  the  many  flowers  embosomed  in  the  long  waving 
grass — I  could  not  enjoy  their  sweetness ;  not  even 
was  it  lawful  for  me  to  inhale  at  will  their  delicious 
perfume,  wafted  by  the  breeze  that  fanned  my  cheek, 
once  glowing  with  health  and  animation,  but  now 
marked  with  the  traces  of  suffering  and  sorrow. 

Ever  and  anon  my  listless  gaze  would  wander  over 
the  distant  landscape.  Before  me  were  the  mountains, 
in  all  their  majestic  beauty,  the  western  sun,  as  it 
set,  pouring  a  -flood  of  golden  light  upon  the  dense  foli- 
age that  covered  their  summits  ;  and  then,  as  a  caged 
bird  dashing  against  the  bars  of  its  prison-house  with 
strong  desire  to  gain  its  native  wild-wood,  even  so  did 
I  yearn  to  escape  from  the  walls  that  surrounded  me, 
to  roam  free  and  unfettered  over  those  mountain  sides, 
reveling  in  those  sunbeams,  or  quietly  resting  in  the 
shade  of  those  towering  trees.  But  I  must  banish 
these  thoughts — repel  the  wish  to  gaze  upon  and  enjoy 
the  beauties  of  nature.  What  have  I  to  do  with 
earth  ?  What  to  me  is  that  world  which  I  have  re- 
nounced forever  ?  For  me  the  interest  of  natural  life 
is  irrevocably  closed,  and  now,  by  devoting  my  exist- 
ence to  the  service  of  God  in  the  holy  seclusion  of  the 
cloister,  I  shall  purchase  heaven !  By  a  life  of  pover- 
ty, suffering,  prayer,  and  penance,  win  the  smile  of 


A   DREAM   OF   FREEDOM.  229 

tlie  holy  Virgin  and  lier  divine  Son !  Yes,  I  will  wel- 
come those  pains  and  miseries  to  save  my  soul,  though 
they  destroy  my  body.  But  can  not  heaven  be  gain- 
ed without  such  a  sacrifice  ?  The  way  is  dark  and 
difficult.  What  now  is  left  me?  a  lonely  heart,  a 
weary  life,  a  disappointed  hope.  O  God !  teach  my 
spirit  to  be  resigned  to  Thy  most  holy  will. 

Scenes  of  other  days  now  pass  in  rapid  review  he- 
fore  me.  Alas !  that  memory  should  add  its  pangs, 
recalling  years  that  have  forever  fled,  hours  that  I 
would  fain  forget,  moments  of  thrilling  rapture,  from 
whose  fond  contemplation  my  vows  debar  me  now. 

Scenes  of  more  recent  date,  with  all  their  blighting 
woe,  come  to  agonize  my  heart,  yet  bleeding  with  for- 
mer reflections  :  a  mother's  loss,  never  to  be  made 
up,  never  to  be  alleviated  by  the  consolations  of  pa- 
ternal and  sisterly  affection  ;  expostulations  and  gen- 
tle warnings  disregarded,  under  the  infatuation  of  a 
deceived  and  misguided  zeal.  Well  is  it  now  that 
little  time  is  allowed  for  such  remembrances.  Let  me 
return  to  the  care  and  weariness  of  my  bondage,  and 
forget  the  past. 


230  MISS  bunkley's  book. 


CHAPTER  XLYL 

MY   ESCAPE. 

Conscious  that  I  was  a  guarded  prisoner  at  St.  Jo- 
seph's, I  now  determined,  in  secresy  if  possible,  to  es- 
cape. But  could  I  hope  to  leave  the  institution  un- 
discovered during  the  day  ?  It  was  impossible,  since 
no  one  is  suffered  even  to  enter  or  leave  a  room  with- 
out express  command  or  obtained  permission,  and  spies 
are  known  to  be  placed  in  all  parts  of  the  building, 
though  individually  recognizable  as  such  by  none  but 
the  Superior. 

Considerable  time  had  elapsed  since  the  forming  of 
this  resolution  without  the  offering  of  any  special  fa- 
cility to  realize  the  scheme.  Finally,  I  determined  to 
delay  no  longer,  but  make  an  attempt  at  once.  At 
first  I  was  at  a  loss  what  course  to  decide  upon  when 
once  I  should  be  outside  the  walls  of  the  institution. 
The  town  of  Emmettsburg  was  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
distant,  and  I  could  easily  reach  it ;  but  I  knew  that 
a  large  proportion  of  the  inhabitants  were  Catholics, 
and  that  I  should  run  the  risk  of  being  discovered  and 
sent  back  to  the  community.  The  "  house"  of  the 
Lazarists  was  also  located  there,  between  which  and 
St.  Joseph's  there  was  constant  communication,  and 
the  probability  of  an  encounter  on  the  road  with  some 


'MY   ESCAPE.  231 

member  of  tlie  order  occurred  to  my  mind.     In  view 
of  these  considerations,  I  decided  that  it  would  be  more 
prudent  to  proceed  to  Frederick  City.     I  resolved,  ac- 
cordingly, to  seek  egress  from  the  building  about  two 
liours  after  midnight,  in  order  that  I  might  catch  the 
stage  from  Emmettsburg  to  that  place,  which  passed 
at  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning.     This  resolution 
was  taken  on  the   evening  preceding  my  departure, 
while  sitting  at  the  window  of  my  cell  for  a  few  min- 
utes before  the  ringing  (5f  the  bell  for  evening  prayers. 
I  had  been  detained  from  supper  until  late,  in  conse- 
quence of  having  been  appointed  to  take  charge  of  the 
music-rooms  (a  duty  ordinarily  discharged  by  a  vowed 
sister)  while  the  sisterhood  were  at  their  meal,  and 
when  I  arrived  at  the  refectory  nearly  every  one  had 
left.     I  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  and  secured 
a  knife,  which  I  concealed  about  my  person,  with  the 
full  determination  to  use  it,  if  my  strength  should  per- 
mit, in  self-defense,  should  I  be  stopped  or  overtaken 
on  the  road ;  for  I  was  now  desperate,  and  the  bare 
idea  of  failure  filled  me  with  terror. 

While  seated  at  the  window  revolving  my  plan,  as 
my  head  rested  against  the  casement,  and  the  chill 
night  air  blew  in  upon  me  (though  for  this  I  cared  not, 
being  familiar  with  suffering  and  exposure  to  cold),  I 
was  startled  from  my  meditations  by  the  deep  tolling 
of  the  convent  bell  calling  to  prayers.  Hastily  com- 
posing my  features,  and  effacing  the  traces  of  tears 
from  my  countenance,  I  rose  to  obey  its  summons  for 
the  last  time,  as  I  fondly  hoped.  While  crossing  the 
corridor  on  my  way  to  the  novitiate,  I  was  accosted 
by  an  old  sister,  who  delivered  to  me  an  order  with 


232  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

which  she  had  been  intnisted,  requiring  that  I  should 
sweep  out  all  the  music-rooms  at  an  early  hour  in  the 
morning.  I  showed  her  my  hand,  which  I  carried  in 
a  sling,  the  thumb  having  been  opened  to  the  bone 
but  a  few  days  before  to  cure  a  whitlow,  and  told  her 
that  I  should  hardly  be  able  to  perform  the  duty. 
Saying  that  the  order  was  imperative,  she  left  me,  and 
I  proceeded  to  the  chapel,  not,  it  may  be  presumed, 
with  any  purpose  of  sweeping  out  the  music-rooms 
the  next  morning ;  instead  of  which,  I  hoped  to  be 
breathing  the  fresh  air  of  heaven,  and  exulting  in  the 
sense  of  freedom  and  dehverance  from  the  horrors  of  a 
"living  death." 

■  About  an  hour  passed  by  after  the  conclusion  of  the 
evening  devotions,  and  all  the  sisters  had  retired  to 
their  cells.  Suffering  exceedingly  from  thirst,  I  re- 
solved, though  it  was  contrary  to  the  rules  for  a  nov- 
ice to  drink  after  the  ringing  of  the  silence-bell,  to  pro- 
cure a  draught  of  water,  and  at  the  same  time  to  see 
whether  the  key  of  a  door  leading  from  a  passage 
across  the  porch  to  the  infirmary  was  in  the  lock.  I 
accomplished  my  purpose  without  discovery,  but  the 
key  had  been  removed.  Keturning  to  my  cell,  I  lay 
down  on  my  bed  to  obtain  some  rest  before  the  ap- 
pointed hour ;  but  I  was  too  anxious  to  sleep,  and 
trembled  and  shivered  upon  my  couch  until  the  cry  of 
the  watchman,  who  has  charge  of  the  establishment  at 
night,  announced  that  it  was  two  o'clock.  A  few  min- 
utes after  I  arose,  put  on  my  habit,  placing  the  beads 
in  my  pocket,  lest  they  should  rattle  as  I  walked  along, 
and  then  waited  for  the  watchman's  cry  of  "three 
o'clock."     Upon  hearing  that  signal  I  left  my  cell,  do- 


MY   ESCArE. 


233 


ino-  so  for  the  first  time  witliout  making  my  bed,  and 
groped  my  way  through  the  darkness  down  the  stairs 
and  along  the  cloisters,  all  the  while  attentively  hsten- 
ing  to  detect  any  noise.     All  was  silent  save  the  shght 
sound  of  my  footsteps  on  the  paved  floor.     Descend- 
ing a  narrow  flight  of  stairs,  I  proceeded  along  a  dark 
passage,  at  the  extremity  of  which  there  were  other 
steps  leading  to  the  chapel.      I  preferred  to  attempt 
my  escape  in  this  part  of  the  huilding  for  the  reason 
that  there  was  no  inclosure  immediately  outside  of  it. 
Having  gained  the  chapel  door,  I  was  forced  to  pause 
and  rest  for  a  few  moments  to  gain  composure ;  for  I 
was  trembling  violently,  and  almost  suffocated  by  the 
impetuous   and   convulsive  throbbings   of  my  heart. 
There  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  however ;  so,  taking  cour- 
age, I  ran  across  the  chapel,  and,  guided  by  a  faint 
gleam  of  moonlight  through  the  crevices,  climbed  up  to 
a  window,  opened  it,  and  leaped  to  the  pavement  be- 
low.    I  looked  around  and  listened,  but  no  living  ob- 
ject was  visible,   and  no  sound  broke  the  stillness. 
The  watchman  at  the  building  had  gone  in,  but  there 
was  another  stationed  at  the  gate,  whose  vigilance  I 
would  have  to  elude.     I  could  not  stop,  however,  to 
reflect,  but  fled  rapidly  down  the  avenue.    When  about 
halfway,  I  heard  a  slight  noise,  and  approaching  near- 
er, perceived,  to  my  dismay,  that  the  watchman  had 
raised  the  window  of  his  room,  and  was  leaning  from 
it,  as  though  suspicious   of  something  wrong.      My 
heart  sank  within  me,  and  for  a  moment  I  was  literal- 
ly paralyzed  with  fear.     But  I  soon  succeeded  in  con- 
cealing myself  behind  a  tree,  and  remained  there  for 
some  time,  anxiously  awaiting  the  Avithdrawal  of  the 


234  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

watchman  from  his  post  of  observation.  There  was 
another  mode  of  egress  from  the  grounds,  by  a  path 
through  the  grave-yard,  where  from  my  station  I  could 
see  the  v»'hite  crosses  gleaming  in  the.  moonlight.  But 
this  would  take  me  in  a  direction  opposite  to  that  which 
I  intended  to  follow ;  and  fearing  lest  I  might  become 
confused  and  lose  my  way,  I  resolved  to  wait  where  I 
was. 

Another  grievous  disappointment  was  in  store  for 
me.  While  at  my  hiding-place,  the  stage  for  Freder- 
ick City,  in  which  I  had  trusted  to  obtain  a  seat,  pass- 
ed by,  and  with  it  aU  my  sanguine  anticipations  van- 
ished, and  for  an  instant  despair  took  possession  of  my 
faculties.  I  became  partly  reassured,  however,  when 
I  joyfully  observed  that  the  watchman,  as  if  satisfied 
by  the  passing  of  the  stage,  had  closed  the  window 
and  retired.  I  quickly  passed  through  the  gate  into 
the  road,  feeling  that  my  object  was  at  least  half  ac- 
complished, the  chief  obstacle  being  already  sur- 
mounted. 

I  had  walked  but  a  short  distance  in  the  direction 
taken  by  the  stage  when,  approaching  a  bridge  which 
I  was  obliged  to  cross,  I  saw  in  the  shadow  the  figure 
of  a  man.  At  this  sight  my  courage  again  faltered, 
for  I  felt  assured  that,  should  he  prove  a  Catholic,  and 
suspect  from  my  garb  wlio  I  was,  he  would  attempt  to 
carry  me  back  by  force  ;  but  drawing  my  shawl  closely 
around  me,  to  conceal  as  much  as  possible  my  "habit," 
I  pulled  my  dark  bonnet  fartlier  over  my  face,  and 
grasping  the  knife  as  firmly  as  my  wounded  hand 
would /allow,  I  walked  boldly  past  without  being  ac- 
costed.    About  a  mile  and  a  half  farther  on,  hearing 


MY  ESCAPE.  235 

the  voices  of  ci  party  of  men  who  were  coming  toward 
me,  I  entered  a  gate  that  opened  on  the  road,  and 
knelt  behind  the  inclosure  till  they  had  gone  by.  I 
was  on  the  point  of  again  proceeding  upon  my  w\ay, 
after  waiting  some  minutes  to  make  sure  that  the  road 
was  clear,  when  sounds  of  fighting  and  cries  of  "  mur- 
der" from  a  house  near  by  caused  me  to  shrink  back 
in  alarm  to  my  hiding-place.  There  I  remained  until 
I  heard  the  Angelus  ring  at  St.  Joseph's.  I  knew 
then  that  it  was  six  o'clock ;  and  conscious  that  I  had 
no  time  to  lose,  I  re-entered  the  road  and  prosecuted 
my  journey  with  as  much  speed  as  my  tired  limbs 
could  effect. 

I  had  walked  a  considerable  distance,  and  began  to 
experience  great  fatigue,  when,  seeing  a  woman  near 
a  house  on  the  road-side,  I  ventured  to  address  her, 
asking  "  how  far  it  was  to  Frederick  City."  "  Twen- 
ty-two miles,"  w^as  her  answer.  I  inquired  if  I  could 
obtain  a  conveyance  thither.  Without  deigning  a  re- 
ply to  my  question,  she  asked  me  where  I  came  from, 
and  on  my  telUng  her  "from  Emmettsburg,"  advised 
me  in  a  peremptory  tone  to  "  go  back,  and  start  from 
there."  Then  turning  to  a  young  man  who  came  out 
of  the  house,  she  whispered  to  him  for  a  few  moments, 
when  he  immediately  started  in  the  direction  of  the 
institution. 

Convinced  from  her  conduct  that  the  w^oman  was 
a  Catholic,  and  entertained  some  suspicion  of  my  being 
a  fugitive  from  the  sisterhood  ;  confident,  too,  that  she 
had  dispatched  the  young  man  to  give  information 
concerning  me,  I  turned  away,  and  continued  my  jour- 
ney.    But  I  was  now  afraid  to  proceed  on  the  main 


236  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

road,  lest  I  should  be  overtaken,  ^nd  more  afraid  to 
leave  it,  lest  I  should  lose  my  way.  After  crossing  a 
creek — Owning's  Creek  I  think  it  is  called — I  arrived 
about  nine  o'clock  at  a  small  village,  which  a  sign-post 
informed  me  was  Creagerstown.  I  had  walked  a  dis- 
tance of  ten  miles.  On  inquiring  for  the  principal 
house  of  entertainment  in  the  place,  I  was  directed  to 
Stevens's  Hotel,  the  proprietor  of  which,  at  that  time, 
with  a  noble  kindness  and  generous  hospitality  that 
acted  like  a  soothing  balm  upon  my  wounded  spirit, 
and  for  which  I  shall  ever  be  grateful,  accorded  me  the 
shelter  of  his  house,  and  assured  me  of  the  protection 
of  his  arm  until  the  arrival  of  my  father,  to  whom  I  in- 
stantly wrote,  informing  him  of  the  circumstances  of 
my  escape. 

None  but  those .  who  have  felt,  after  some  over- 
whelming sorrow  that  threatened  to  obscure  every  fu- 
ture prospect,  the  first  cheering  rays  of  hope  breaking 
through  the  clouds — none  but  those  who,  deprived  of 
all  sympathy  and  protection,  exposed  to  evil  designs 
and  unscrupulous  schemes  against  their  peace  and  pu- 
rity, without  a  glimpse  of  succor  and  deliverance,  have 
suddenly  been  rescued  from  their  perilous  condition 
and  restored  to  safety,  can  adequately  appreciate  the 
exultant  joy  and  happiness  that  thrilled  every  nerve 
of  my  system  when  convinced  that  I  had  gained  shel- 
ter and  defense  among  those  whose  hearts  beat  in  sym- 
pathy with  my  afflictions  and  my  fears.  To  many 
noble-hearted  citizens  of  Creagerstown  will  memory 
often  recur  with  gratitude  for  their  exertions  in  behalf 
of  a  friendless,  and,  to  them,  unknown  girl. 

As  I  afterward  learned,  and  at  the  time  conjectured. 


MY   ESCAPE.  237 

the  young  man  sent  off  by  the  woman  whom  I  ad- 
dressed on  the  road  did  go  to  St.  Joseph's  with  the 
information,  but,  owing  to  my  disguise,  he  did  not 
know  that  I  was  a  member  of  the  community,  and  told 
the  Superior  that  a  boarder  had  escaped.  It  was  not 
class-day,  but  the  bell  was  rung,  and  the  scholars  were 
assembled.  None  being  missed,  it  was  supposed  that 
the  messenger  had  been  mistaken.  Thus  the  knowl- 
edge of  my  absence  was  delayed  for  a  time ;  and  to 
this  delay  I  am  perhaps  indebted  for  the  fact  that  I 
was  not  overtaken  and  forced  back. 

So  soon,  however,  as  my  escape  became  known,  per- 
sons were  sent  in  search  of  me  in  different  du'cctions ; 
and  my  place  of  refuge  was  discovered  by  the  overseer 
of  the  farm,  who  had  gone  to  Frederick  City,  suspect- 
ing that  I  had  perhaps  sought  admission  at  the  con- 
vent there,  which  is  a  "  visitation"  convent,  and  does 
not  stand  in  very  amicable  relations  with  St.  Joseph's  ; 
but,  hearing  no  tidings  of  me  there,  he  came  to  Crea- 
gerstown.  He  requested  an  interview  with  me,  and 
stated  that  the  Mother  Superior  was  greatly  disturbed 
at  the  step  I  had  taken,  and  promised  that  if  I  would 
return  quietly,  and  without  causing  an  excitement,  she 
would  send  me  home.  He  added  that  she  was  fear- 
ful lest,  if  the  circumstances  should  become  known, 
the  institution  would  be  injured.  My  answer  to  this 
plausible  message  may  readily  be  surmised.  After 
the  departure  of  the  overseer,  the  Superior,  being  in- 
formed where  I  was,  dispatched  two  "officers"  of  the 
community  to  Creagerstown.  On  their  arrival  they 
endeavored  to  force  their  way  to  my  room,  but  I  re- 
fused to  see  them ;  for  the  habit  of  obedience  to  their 


238  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

mandates  had  become  so  strong,  that  I  actually  dread- 
ed the  iiitluence  of  their  presence,  and  trembled  at  the 
thought  of  an  interview  with  those  of  whom  I  had  so 
long  stood  in  awe,  and  to  whose  wishes  and  commands 
submission  had  become,  as  it  were,  a  second  nature. 
The  landlord  of  the  hotel  took  part  in  my  anxiety  to 
avoid  this  meeting.  I  was  locked  up  in  a  room  on 
the  second  story  of  the  house,  the  window-shutters  of 
which  were  closed  and  fastened  during  the  whole  time 
of  the  "sisters'  stay.  I  was  in  a  state  of  the  utmost 
alarm  lest  they  should  reach  me.  I  heard  the  alter- 
cation going  on  below,  and  feared  that,  after  all,  I 
should  be  delivered  up.  So  much  had  my  spirit  be- 
come subject  to  the  control  of  these  sister-officers  of 
St.  Joseph's.  But,  being  unable  to  obtain  access  to 
me,  they  wrote  notes,  which  were  thrust  under  the  door, 
and  a  receipt,  which  I  signed,  for  the  articles  of  my 
own  property  which  had  been  brought  me.  I  sent 
them  every  thing  about  my  person  that  they  demand- 
ed— my  "  capot,"  community-book  or  formulary,  etc., 
etc.  I  had  not  felt  such  alarm  at  any  moment  during 
my  escape  as  during  the  time  that  these  sisters  re- 
mained in  the  house. 


AN    INCIDENT   AFTER   ESCAPE.  239 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

AN    INCIDENT   AFTER    ESCAPE. 

A  SHORT  time  previous  to  my  departure,  one  of  the 
boarders  had  left  the  academy.  She  had  always  ap- 
peared much  attached  to  me ;  and  when,  on  my  way 
home  from  Creagerstown  with  my  father,  we  stopped 
at  a  hotel  in  Frederick  City,  she  immediately  came 
upon  hearing  of  our  arrival,  and,  rushing  to  my  arms, 
embraced  me  with  a  cry  of  delight,  "Oh!  sister,  I  am 
so  glad  to  see  you  away  from  that  institution  ! "  She 
did  not  leave  me  until  we  entered  the  cars  for  Balti- 
more. Her  congratulations  were  abundant,  and  she 
repeatedly  assured  me,  while  we  were  together  in  Fred- 
erick, that,  had  she  known  of  my  desire  to  escape,  her 
carriage  would  have  been  at  my  disposal. 

After  my  return  home  I  received  a  letter  from  this 
young  lady  which  I  did  not  answer.  Its  tenor  was 
such  as  to  satisfy  me  that  already  her  mind  had  been 
biased  against  me,  so  little  dependence  can  be  placed 
upon  the  candid  judgment  of  any  one,  even  a  postu- 
lant ox  boarder,  who  is  under  the  influence  of  the  Su- 
perior of  St.  Joseph's. 

It  is  worthy  of  notice,  however  accounted  for,  that 
in  every  case  of  the  flight  of  a  young  girl  from  the 
walls  of  a  Roman  Catholic  convent  or  community, 


240  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

wliicli  she  may  have  "been  induced  by  pkiusihle  but 
deceitful  representations  to  enter,  she  is  at  once  re- 
garded as  an  outcast  and  denounced  as  a  disgrace  to 
religion  by  the  whole  papal  society.  On  this  subject 
the  remarks  of  a  recent  writer  are  so  pertinent  that  I 
can  not  express  myself  better  than  in  his  words: 
"Her  early  associates  will  upbraid  her,  her  own  pa- 
rents [if  they  be  Koman  Catholic]  will  cast  her  oiF, 
and  tlie  papal  community  in  which  she  lives  will  avoid 
her  as  if  infected  w^ith  leprosy.  In  papal  countries 
she  will  scarcely  be  able  to  get  food  to  keep  her  from 
starvation,  if  they  do  not  rally  around  her  and  drive 
her  back  to  prison,  and  penance,  and  punishment. 

"Why  is  this?  Is  it  not  very  plain  that  the  in- 
structions of  the  priests  to  their  people  are  of  such  a 
kind  that  they  train  them  to  believe  that  if  a  nun  es- 
capes, no  matter  for  what  cause,  she  is  disobedient  to 
the  priest,  and  will  certainly  be  damned  ;  and  though 
it  may  appear  cruel  to  treat  her  so  harshly,  yet,  in  the 
end,  if  they  succeed  in  compelling  her  to  go  back  to 
the  convent,  the  cruelty  to  the  escaped  nun  will  be 
considered  meritorious  for  their  and  her  salvation  ? 

"  To  make  ample  provision  for  retaining  them  in 
these  prisons,  the  priests  teach  that  there  is  no  sin 
which  can  be  committed  while  in  the  convent  that  will 
bear  comparison  with  that  of  leaving  off  the  convent 
life  and  being  married.  Having  gotten  this  idea  in 
the  minds  of  their  people  of  this  dreadful  sin  of  escap- 
ing from  the  convent,  the  people  never  pretend  to  im- 
agine for  what  cause  or  under  what  circumstances  the 
individual  has  escaped. 

"  Now  I  will  admit  that  one  half,  two  thirds — nay, 


AN  INCIDENT  AFTER  ESCAPE.        241 

that  all  the  nuns  enter  willingly,  but  really  ignorant 
of  what  is  before  them.  Tell  me  of  what  immorality 
or  crime  they  are  guilty  when,  on  finding  the  convent 
to  be  not  what  they  supposed  and  were  taught  that  it 
was,  they  desire  to  leave,  and  on  finding  themselves 
imprisoned,  venture  on  an  escape  ?"* 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  consideration  of 
these  consequences  upon  such  a  step  frightens  many 
a  novice,  and  many  a  professed  "  religieiise'^  too,  from 
the  attempt  to  liberate  herself  from  the  durance  in 
which  she  is  held  and  the  evils  to  Avhich  she  is  ex- 
posed. Whenever  the  courage  of  a  poor  recluse  is 
summoned  to  so  desperate  an  effort,  the  entire  Catho- 
lic community  seem  actuated  by  one  mind  and  pur- 
pose to  denounce  and  persecute  her.  The  case  is  pre- 
judged before  she  can  utter  a  syllable  in  her  own  de- 
fense. The  assertions  of  those  from  whose  thraldom 
she  has  escaped  to  those  to  whom  she  has  fled,  and 
whose  interest  it  must  be  to  conceal  and  misconstrue, 
are  imphcitly  and  blindly  believed,  while  no  credit  is 
given  to  her  own  declarations.  A  malignant  pleasure 
seems  to  be  found  in  holding  her  up  as  an  object  for 
public  scorn,  in  blasting  the  character  and  prospects 
of  an  innocent  girl,  simply  because,  shuddering  and  re- 
volting at  the  fate  to  which  she  was  doomed,  she  could 
not  remain  a  willing  or  a  passive  victim.  Nay,  even 
some  Protestants— to  their  shame  be  it  spoken— from 
motives  of  personal  regard,  or  from  interested  consid- 
erations, do  not  hesitate  to  lend  their  free  voices  to  this 
combination  of  priests,  superiors,  and  a  bigoted  laity, 

*  Priests'  Prisons  for  Women,  in  Twelve  Letters.  By  Andrew  B. 
Cross.     Baltimore,  1854. 

L 


242  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

in  their  unpardonable  Avork  of  malice  and  iincharita- 
bleness. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  I  have  not  escaped  such  an 
ordeal.  As  soon  as  my  departure  from  St.  Joseph's 
became  known,  these  efforts  were  commenced,  and 
they  have  been  continued,  in  various  forms,  up  to  the 
present  time.  Having  in  the  preceding  narrative  told, 
with  all  candor,  the  incidents  and  motives .  of  my  en- 
tering the  institution,  my  experience  while  residing 
there,  and  the  reasons  that  compelled  me  to  leave  it 
by  stealth,  I  shall  now  have  to  narrate  a  series  of  in- 
jurious and  groundless  attacks,  brought  upon  me  by 
that  step. 


PRIEST  o'donnell.  243 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

PRIEST    o'donnell. 

The  first  onset  was  made  by  a  meddlesome  priest, 
residing  many  hundred  miles  from  the  locality,  who 
could  not  resist  the  tempting  opportunity  afforded  him 
40  display  his  zeal  in  behalf  of  this  cherished  system 
of  the  Eomish  clergy.  The  following  is  a  copy  of  his 
published  letter  on  the  subject : 

—  "  Portland,  November  25th,  1854. 

"  Mr.  Editor  : 

"Dear  Sir, — My  attention  has  been  directed  this 
morning  to  an  extract  in  your  paper  from  a  dispatch 
from  Baltimore.  It  is  not  my  wish  to  censure  you 
for  the  paragraph.  Probably  you  had  the  pleasure  to 
read  it  for  the  first  time  in  this  morning's  edition.  I 
have  no  other  expression  for  the  writer  than  that  of 
sympathy ;  for  the  man  who  knowingly  circulates  false 
rumors  to  gratify  the  marvelous  appetite  is  in  much 
need  of  public  sympathy.  Such  rumors,  however,  are 
easily  removed  in  the  locality  where  they  originated, 
but  not  so  abroad. 

"  The  statements  are  easily  made  and  readily  be- 
lieved ;  an  impression  is  forthwith  made  in  accordance 
with  the  statement,  most  generally  of  prejudice  and 
hostility  against  the  calumniated,  and  there  is  evident- 


244  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ly  no  manifest  desire  to  suppress  the  falsehood  and  cir- 
culate the  truth.  The  paper  which  receives  the  credit 
of  announcing  the  singular  accident,  phenomenon,  or 
marvelous  escape,  sometimes  retracts  and  makes  the 
amende  honorable^  while  other  papers,  equally  respon- 
sible to  the  public,  ignore  the  refutation.  I  hope, 
therefore,  that  my  present  intention  shall  not  be  mis- 
construed or  regarded  in  an  unfriendly  spirit,  and  that 
the  explanation,  if  satisfactory,  will  benefit  the  jour- 
nals who  hold  guardianship  over  Catholics  and  their 
doctrine. 

"The  statement  of  a  young  lady  nun  is  radically 
false.  A  knowledge  of  the  rules  which  govern  the 
house  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  enables  me  to  make 
this  unqualified  statement. 

"The  house  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  is  known  as 
St.  Joseph's,  near  Emmcttsburg  (not  Emmettsbay). 
There  is  generally  a  number  of  persons  demanding  ad- 
mission. In  order  to  secure  a  reception,  they  must 
produce  letters  from  responsible  persons,  vouching  to 
their  good  character,  etc.  They  must  bring  sufficient 
means  to  enable  them  to  return  home  if  the  society 
thinks  them  unfit,  either  in  physical  or  mental  qualifi- 
cations, to  discharge  the  hard,  and,  in  many  cases,  re- 
pulsive duties  of  the  order.  They  spend  the  first  two 
years  as  postulants,  take  no  vows,  and  are  perfectly 
free  to  leave  the  institution  at  any  moment.  There  is 
no  necessity  for  scaling  walls,  crossing  fields,  and  es- 
caping during  the  stillness  of  the  night.  In  a  word, 
any  Catholic  subject  is  perfectly  free,  as  far  as  phys- 
ical force  is  concerned,  to  follow  the  dictates  of  her 
own  will. 


PRIEST    O'dONNELL.  240 

"The  case  witli  scliolars  is  quite  different.  They 
are  placed  under  the  care  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  by 
their  parents,  to  whom  the  sisters  are  accountable. 
The  rules  of  the  institution  arc  read  by  all  the  schol- 
ars, and  all  who  enter  must  abide  by  the  rules.  The 
young  ladies  arc  not  permitted  to  leave  the  ground  or 
fixed  bound,  to  make  visits,  to  receive  or  send  letters 
from  the  institution  without  examination ;  in  a  word, 
they  are  constantly  under  the  eye  of  their  teachers. 
Hence  they  have  no  claim  on  the  institution  other  than 
an  education,  an  equivalent  for  their  pension.  At  the 
end  of  the  school  term  they  can  go  home,  to  a  friend's, 
to  spend  the  vacation,  or  remain  and  pay  their  board 
during  the  vacation,  and  are  confined  to  the  rules  pre- 
scribed by  the  parents. 

"It  sometimes  happens  that  a  young  miss  is  sent  by 
parents  to  have  her  removed  from  a  particular  circle 
of  society.  A  romantic,  novel-reading  girl  soon  be- 
comes restless  under  school  restriction.  A  love-en- 
gagement or  some  romantic  adventure  will  urge  her  to 
invent  means  to  escape  the  care  and  vigilance  of  her 
teachers.  Her  object  is  soon  accomplished;  the  sis- 
ters are  in  trouble  for  the  truant  girl  and  her  disap- 
pomted  parents  ;  the  papers  enjoy  a  holiday  on  the 
first  intimation  of  a  hairbreadth  escape  of  a  nun  from 
a  Catholic  convent,  and  the  gratified  public  sleep 
soundly,  well  satisfied  that,  at  least  in  this  happy  re- 
public, liberty  of  conscience  w^ill  be  proclaimed  by  the 
press,  and  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

"  I  hope,  Mr.  Editor,  you  will  not  consider  any  word 
of  the  within -personal.  I  assure  you  it  is  not  so  in- 
tended.    My  aim  is  not  bo  much  to  teach  in  your  pa- 


246  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

per,  or  in  any  other,  but  simply  to  state  facts  which 
are  known  to  me,  and  seemingly  unknown  to  you  and 
others.  J.  O'Donnell." 

Any  formal  reply  to  this  effusion  is  entirely  unnec- 
essary. The  reverend  writer  is  evidently  a  "  swift 
witness,"  and  would,  if  called  upon,  perhaps,  be  will- 
ing to  swear  to  any  thing  to  protect  the  interests  of 
"Mother  Church."  He  pronounces  '''the  statement 
of  a  young  lady  nui-C^  to  be  '■^  radically  false, '^''  gyqxi 
before  she  had  made  a  statement,  and  says  he  is  ena- 
bled to  do  so  "from  a  knowledge  of  the  rules  which 
govern  the  house  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity."  If  such 
evidence  as  this  were  allowed,  where  would  there  be 
found  protection  for  any  subject  of  a  system  of  gov- 
ernment and  discipline  ?  "Does  the  existence  of  a  set 
of  rules  always  and  necessarily  imj^ly  their  observance, 
and  especially  in  a  community  whose  religion  incul- 
cates the  doctrine  that  "the  end  sanctifies  the  means?" 
Why,  this  is  the  very  question  at  issue.  If  the  regu- 
lations, as  published,  were  carried  out,  there  would,  of 
course,  be  no  necessity  for  an  escape.  A  child  can  see 
this  as  v/ell  as  the  Eev.  J.  O'Donnell.  His  letter  is 
unworthy  of  consideration ;  but  the  Mother  Superior 
of  St.  Joseph's  has  also  published  an  epistle,  which  is 
so  ingeniously  v/orded,  and  carries  such  an  air  of  truth- 
fulness, that  it  is  well  calculated  to  deceive. 


THE  MOTHER  SUPERIOR'S  LETTER.      247 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

THE   MOTHER   SUPERIOR'S    LETTER. 

TO    THE    EDITOR    OF    "  THE    CITIZEN." 

*' St.  Joseph's,  near  Emmettsburg,  December  l.st,  1854. 
"  Sir, — ^As  numerous  misrepresentations  have  ap- 
peared in  the  public  prints  in  relation  to  Miss  Jose- 
phine Bunkley's  connection  with  and  departure  from 
our  institution,  I  have,  from  a  sense  of  duty,  though 
with  very  great  reluctance,  concluded  to  communicate 
to  you  for  publication  the  following  statement  of  facts, 
exhibiting  the  exact  truth  of  the  matter. 

"About  two  years  ago,  Miss  BunT^ley,  of  her  own 
accord,  came  here,  and  made  a  spiritual  retreat,  that 
is,  spent  some  days  in  meditation  and  prayer.  She 
then  expressed  an  ardent  desire  to  become  a  Sister  of 
Charity— a  member  of  our  society.  As  she  was  yet 
young,  and  a  convert  to  the  Catholic  faith,  she  was 
required  to  take  time  for  mature  consideration,  and 
was  not  received.  One  year  after  this  she  again  ap- 
plied by  letter  to  be  admitted  as  a  candidate,  and  was 
authorized  to  come  here  on  trial.  She  accordingly 
entered  tlie  novitiate,  as  others  always  do,  to  try  her 
vocation,  perfectly  free  to  leave  us  at  any  hour  or  on 
any  day  she  might  please  to  select,  and  with  the  ex- 
press and  often-repeated  assurance  given  her  by  us, 


248  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tliat  she  would  do  wrong  to  stay  with  us  unless  she 
did  so  freely,  and  from  the  conviction  that  she  was  do- 
ing the  will  of  God  and  seeking  her  own  happiness  by 
remaining. 

"During  the  ten  months  that  she  was  with  us  she 
not  only  appeared  happy,  but  constantly  professed  to 
be  so,  and  thus  continued  to  express  herself  up  to  the 
very  eve  of  her  departure.  Every  one  who  knows  any 
thing  of  us  at  all,  knows  that  she  had  only  to  say  the 
word,  and  she  could  have  left  us  without  difficulty  and 
in  a  becoming  manner  at  any  time  she  pleased.  Many 
novices  have  left  us  after  trying  their  vocation  here, 
who  can  testify  how  readily  and  cheerfully  they  were 
aided  by  us  in  departing.  Many  who  wished  to  stay 
have  been  induced  by  us  to  go  when  we  were  satisfied 
that  they  were  not  called  by  Providence  to  the  hard- 
ships and  sacrifices  of  a  religious  life. 

"  The  statement  put  forth  that  letters  written  to 
Miss  Bunkley  by  her  father  and  others  of  her  family 
were  withheld  from  her,  or  retui-ned  to  the  writers,  is 
altogetlier  untrue ;  they  were  invariably  delivered  to 
her.  Her  letters  to  her  family  or  friends  were  always 
sent  as  addressed.  On  one  occasion  only,  w^hen,  after 
her  many  professions  of  her  desire  to  spend  her  life  as 
a  Sister  of  Charity,  she  spoke  in  a  letter  to  her  father 
of  spending  six  months  at  St.  Joseph's,  I  asked  her 
meaning,  and  she  replied  that  '  she  did  not  loish  her 
father  to  hioio  of  her  intention  to  become  a  sister, 
though  he  suspected  iV  I  then  told  her  'not  to  de- 
ceive her  father  ;  tliat  God  would  not  bless  her  under- 
taking if  she  did ;'  and  I  advised  her  to  write  the  let- 
ter over  again.     She  did  so,  and  the  letter  was  sent. 


THE  MOTHER  SUPERIOR'S  LETTER.      249 

I  can  not  now  remember  whether  she  took  the  first 
letter  back,  or  left  it  with  me  to  be  destroyed.  This, 
I  presume,  is  the  incident  which  has  been  perverted 
into  a  charge  against  us  that  we  destroyed  lier  letters 
to  her  father,  written  to  inform  him  of  her  unhappiness 
at  St.  Joseph's  and  desire  to  leave. 

"  Miss  13. 's  extraordinary  mode  of  leaving  our  house 
was  as  unnecessary  as  it  was  surprising.  She  could 
have  left  at  any  hour  of  the  day,  and  by  the  front 
door.  Tliere  was  no  occasion  to  leave  at  night  or 
through  a  window ;  for,  though  the  doors,  as  of  every 
private  dwelling,  are  locked  to  keep  out  intruders,  the 
keys  are  never  removed  from  them.  She  had  no  rea- 
son to  hide  behind  a  tree,  as  no  one  observed  her  go- 
ing, and  no  one  would  have  stopped  her  even  if  she 
had  been  noticed.  I  should  think  it  is  almost  super- 
fluous to  add  that  she  was  not  pursued  after  her  de- 
parture became  known.  Miss  B.  left  here  on  Thurs- 
day morning,  the  9th  ultimo,  before  day.  On  the 
morning  after,  I  wrote  by  mail  to  her  father,  at  Nor- 
folk, informing  him  of  her  departure.  On  the  follow- 
ing Saturday,  the  overseer  of  our  farm  went  to  Crea- 
gerstown,  and  brouglit  back  a  note  from  her  asking  for 
Jier  trunk,  clothes,  two  watches,  and  the  money  which 
she  had  on  deposit  with  our  treasurer,  amounting  to 
$2  62^.  Xo  one,  in  the  mean  time,  liad  gone  after  her. 
No  one  asked  her  to  com.e  back.  It  was  only  on  the 
Monday  of  the  next  week  that  two  of  our  sisters  went 
to  Creagerstown,  and,  without  seeing  her,  delivered 
tlie  above-named  articles  and  obtained  her  written  ac- 
knowledgment of  their  receipt. 

"  There  are  two  other  inaccuracies,  asserted  or  im- 
L  2 


250  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

plied,  in  the  various  statements,  in  this  county  and 
elsewhere,  in  regard  to  this  ajBfair,  which  I  may  as  well 
now  notice,  once  and  for  all. 

"It  is  utterly  untrue  that  Miss  B.  was  in  any  man- 
ner solicited  or  persuaded  to  enter  our  community  ;  on 
the  contrary,  she  was  put  off  for  a  year  w^hen  she  ap- 
plied, and  was  afterward  admitted  only  on  trial  at  her 
own  earnest  solicitation.  It  is  equally  untrue  that 
her  trunk,  clothing,  jewelry,  etc.,  were  demanded  of 
her  when  ehe  first  entered  the  institution.  They  were 
subject  to  her  order  on  any  day  she  miglit  clioose  to 
leave  us.  It  is  also  untrue  that  she  ever  expressed 
to  me  the  desire  to  return  home,  neither  have  I  heard 
at  any  time  from  any  one  of  our  sisters  that  she  ever 
expressed  such  a  desire  to  her.  It  is  likewise  untrue 
that  she  ever,  w^ith  our  knowledge,  wrote,  or  desired  to 
w^rite,  to  that  effect  to  her  father  or  any  one  else ;  and 
it  is  the  purest  fiction  that  she  was  ever  commanded 
to  take  her  seat  and  write  to  her  father  or  to  any  oth- 
er person  under  our  dictation.  Every  sister  and  nov- 
ice, here  or  elsewhere,  attached  to  our  community,  is 
not  only  free  to  leave  us,  hut  is  urged  hy  us  to  go 
whenever  she  may  think  it  her  duty  to  do  so,  and  it  is 
well  known  to  the  public  tliat,  even  wdien  the  novice 
becomes  a  sister,  she  takes  her  vows  hut  for  a  single 
yem\  and  at  its  close  is  free  to  renew  them  or  not,  as 
she  may  judge  proper.  Those  who  have  chosen  to 
avail  themselves  of  this  alternative  have  never  been 
impeded  or  molested  in  the  exercise  of  their  free  will, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  pen,  ink,  and  paper  to  write  to 
their  friends,  the  public  coach,  and  money  to  pay  the 
fare,  are  always  at  the  disposal  of  any  one  inclined  to 


THE   MOTHER   superior's    LETTER.  251 

withdraw.  The  members  of  our  society  are  indeed 
told  that,  if  they  desire  to  he  of  our  number,  they 
must  keep  our  rules,  and  in  that  sense  give  up  their 
own  will,  but  whoever  wills  to  leave  is  as  free  as  air. 

"Miss  B.'s  clandestine  departure  may  throw  a  ro- 
mantic coloring  around  the  matter,  but  it  can  in  no 
way  reflect  discreditably  upon  this  institution,  nor 
make  a  case  contrary  to  plain  facts.  I  have  been  in- 
formed that  Miss  B.  herself,  during  her  stay  in  Crea- 
gerstown,  bore  testimony  to  the  truth  of  more  than  I 
have  said  here  respecting  her  kind  treatment  and-free- 
dom  from  duress  or  restriction  while  she  resided  at 
St.  Joseph's. 

"One  word  upon  the  general  question.  Our  sisters 
have  fathers  and  brothers.  We  invite  them  to  come  and 
examine  if  they  find  their  sisters  and  daughters  anxious 
to  leave,  or  in  the  least  degree  unhappy  on  account  of 
the  state  of  life  which  they  have  adopted.  Fathers 
and  brothers,  relations  of  every  degree,  and  friends, 
do  come,  have  always  been  in  the  habit  of  coming. 
They  have  free  access  to  their  friends  who  are  mem- 
bers of  our  community.  Is  it  not  strange,  then,  that 
such  a  system  as  has  been  charged  against  us  could 
exist  for  a  year  or  a  month  ?  A  large  number  of  our 
community  are  scattered  over  the  whole  United  States, 
are  constantly  traveling  from  city  to  city  in  public  con- 
veyances, and  are  regularly  doing  duty  as  nurses  and 
attendants  in  the  public  hospitals  and  asylums  of  the 
country.  Can  it  be  believed  that  they  are  unable  to  find 
means  of  escape,  or  of  communicating  v/itli  their  friends 
at  home  ?  ]\Ioreover,  in  our  school  here  we  have  nu- 
merous Protestant  young  ladies  who  are  in  daily  in- 


252  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tercourse  with  the  sisters.  These  young  ladies  are 
constantlj  visited  by  their  parents  and  friends,  and  go 
home  to  spend  their  vacations.  They  certainly  could 
Ibe  made  the  medium  of  communication  between  any 
sister  and  her  friends,  if  there  were  such  occasion  for 
it  as  has  been  represented  by  our  assailants.  The 
fact  that  no  such  instance  has  ever  occurred  is  suffi- 
cient proof  that  it  has  never  been  necessary. 

"Finally,  it  has  been  stated  that  sisters  have  died 
here  'by  inches'  —  wasting  in  slow  despair.  This 
most  charitable  assertion  is  intended  to  create  in  the 
public  mind  the  suspicion  or  belief  that  they  were  the 
victims  of  a  cruel  imprisonment.  I  have  already  dis- 
posed of  this  calumny,  but  I  will  be  excused  for  add- 
ing that  it  is  indeed  inost  true  that  several  sisters  have 
died  here  during  the  last  and  preceding  years,  and  it 
is  quite  probable  that  others  will  follow  them.  Con- 
sumption, slow  and  rapid,  brought  on  by  their  ardu- 
ous labors  and  nightly  watchings  at  the  death-beds  of 
poor  men  and  women,  of  every  clime  and  of  every 
creed,  in  the  hospitals  of  the  country,  has  indeed  car- 
ried off  many  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  will  no  doubt 
continue  to  do  its  work  of  death.  They  go  from  this 
their  home  in  the  fullness  of  health,  on  their  missions 
of  mercy,  and  wlien  they  return  it  is  sometimes  only 
to  die.  If  this  is  matter  of  reproach,  we  have  no  re- 
ply to  make.  If  this  provokes  the  taunt  of  the  assail- 
ant and  feeds  the  uncharitable,  we  have  only  to  sub- 
mit in  patience  and  humility,  as  far  as  our  weak  na- 
ture may  enable  us,  in  feeble  imitation  of  the  example 
of  our  divine  Master,  the  Lord  Jesus. 

"  S.  M.  Etienne  Hall,  I\L  S.  of  St.  Joseph's." 


REPLY    TO    THE    MOTHER   SUPERIOR'S    I.ETTER.    253 


CHAPTER  L. 

REPLY   TO    THE    MOTHER    SUPERIOR'S    LETTER. 

The  foregoing  letter,  of  wliicli  it  was  said,  on  its 
first  appearance,  that  "  tlic  public  will  discern  in  this 
production  the  mind  and  Jesuitical  craft  of  the  priestly 
polemic  rather  than  the  gushing  sentiment  of  woman's 
charity,"  makes  a  direct  issue  of  veracity  between  the 
!^Iother  Superior  and  myself.  As  to  some  of  the  dis- 
crepancies involved  in  our  respective  statements,  the 
public  must  decide  on  the  bare  assertion  of  each ;  but 
on  the  principal  question — the  right  of  voluntary  de- 
parture— to  which  all  the  rest  are  subordinate,  I  hope 
to  be  able  to  satisfy  every  unprejudiced  mind  that  this 
right  is  a  "myth"' — a  mere  abstraction  purposed  to 
deceive — a  promise  to  be  kept  or  denied,  a,s  may  be 
deemed  expedient  and  politic. 

Though,  in  the  preceding  pages,  I  have  narrated 
candidly  and  fairly  the  circumstances  and  impressions 
connected  with  my  residence  at  St.  Joseph's,  I  can  not, 
perhaps,  reasonably  expect  a  stranger  to  place  greater 
confidence  in  my  assertions,  if  unsupported,  than  in 
those  of  the  Superior.  Hence,  before  I  proceed,  let 
me  invite  the  impartial  attention  of  my  readers  to  what 
may  be  styled  the  "  presumptive  evidence"  of  the  case. 

Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  community  of"  Sis- 


254  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ters  of  Charity"  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  and  effi- 
cient institutions  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  do- 
ing more  than  any  other  to  engage  the  interest  and 
approval  of  those  outside  of  her  limits,  and  make  prose- 
lytes to  her  communion.  It  has  already  become  a  very 
powerful  organization.  In  this  country  alone,  besides 
the  ]\Iother-House,  it  embraces  forty-one  "missions," 
which  have  their  centre  at  Emmettsburg,  but  are 
disseminated  over  the  broad  extent  of  these  United 
States.  Under  the  superintendence  of  these  insti- 
tutions tliere  are  eigliteen  female  orphan  asylums, 
twenty-six  schools,  and  several  hospitals,  in  wdiich  six 
thousand  patients  are  attended  in  the  year.  This  or- 
ganization is  controlled  by  the  priests ;  and  by  its 
ostentatious  charities,  and  its  assumed  virtues,  and 
through  the  instrumentality  of  its  numerous  schools, 
it  exerts  a  vast  influence.  From  their  mode  of  life, 
the  secresy  of  their  endeavors  to  promote  the  interests 
of  their  Church,  and  their  devotion  to  the  work  of  ed- 
ucation, the  Sisters  of  Charity  have  not  inappropriate- 
ly been  termed  the  "  Female  Jesuits."  When  the  im- 
portance and  power  of  this  community  are  duly  esti- 
mated, it  will  be  clearly  seen  how  momentous  an  ob- 
ject it  becomes  at  all  hazards  to  preserve  its  reputa- 
tion unsullied ;  and  wlien,  moreover,  it  is  remember- 
ed that  the  doctrine  of  "  mental  reservation"  is  taught 
and  justified  by  the  Jesuits  and  other  orders  in  the 
Papal  Churcli — a  doctrine  which  permits  and  recom- 
mends the  utterance  of  a  falsehood  to  promote  the  in- 
terests of  "religion"  —  the  presumption,  to  say  the 
least,  of  a  strong  inducement  to  enforce  obedience  by 
the  exercise  of  a  power  which  lies  in  the  hands  of 


KEPLY  TO  THE  MOTHER  SUPEKIOr'S  LETTER.  255 

tliosc  interested  in  the  accomplishment  of  that  design 
is  plainly  made  out.* 

*  The  vows  taken  by  the  Sisters  of  Charity  are  of  the  same  nature 
with  those  assumed  in  the  various  orders  of  nuns.  The  distinction  is 
with  regard  to  the  period  during  which  these  vows  continue  binding. 
In  the  monastic  orders  it  is  for  Hfe  ;  in  the  sisterhood  for  a  stated 
term  ;  but,  as  the  preceding  narrative  has  showai,  the  renewal  of  these 
vows  at  the  expiration  of  that  term  is  performed  while  in  the  institu- 
tion, and  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  and  the  duty  of  obedience  is  in  force 
to  require  the  immediate  resumption  of  tlie  obUgations  just  expired. 
There  is  no  interval  of  emancipation  ;  so  that  the  difference  between 
this  community  and  that  of  a  "close  convent"  is  simply  nominal,  or 
consists  in  a  formal  and  periodical  repetition  of  the  solemn  promises 
made  at  the  outset. 

But,  apart  from  this  consideration,  it  will  be  borne  in  mind  that  the 
vows  themselves,  pledging  the  individual  to  poverty,  chastity,  and  obe- 
dience, are  identically  the  same,  whether  taken  for  a  longer  or  a  short- 
er time.  The  obligation  of  a  strict,  blind,  absolute,  unhesitating  obe- 
dience to  an  arbitrary  authority  weighs  upon  the  Sister  of  Charity  just 
as  heavily  as  upon  the  recluse  of  a  nunnery.  And  what  is  the  degree 
of  freedom  for  the  exercise  of  a  choice  of  continued  servitude  afforded 
to  the  inmates  of  convents  in  our  own  day  and  among  our  own  peo- 
ple !  We  shall  not  simply  take  the  attestation  of  all  intelligent  ob- 
servers, who  know  that  bolts,  and  bars,  and  gratings,  and  high  walls 
are  the  invariable  and  essential  characteristics  of  those  institutions, 
wherever  they  exist  in  our  towns  and  cities  ;  we  shall  not  content 
ourselves  with  recalling  the  numerous,  and  notorious,  and  well-authen- 
ticated cases  of  escape,  whether  attempted  or  accomplished,  from  these 
hicrh  walls,  and  bolted  doors,  and  grated  windows  of  the  nunneries  of 
America  and  England ;  we  shall  quote  the  clear,  distinct,  unanswer- 
able words  of  a  Roman  Catholic  author,  a  saint  canonized  only  a  few 
years  since,  the  founder  of  a  religious  order,  whose  work,  entitled  The 
Nun  Sanctified,  is  the  text-book  of  convents— whose  entire  writings, 
according  to  a  recent  Roman  Catholic  author,  were  more  than  twenty 
times  rigorously  discussed  by  the  sacred  congregation  of  rites,  which 
decreed  that  not  one  word  in  them  had  been  found  worthy  of  censure  ; 
and  we  shall  quote  from  an  edition  published  at  Dublin  in  the  year 
1S48,  for  the  use  of  Enghsh  nuns  and  postulants.  Hear,  then,  what 
St.  Alpiionsus  Liguori  says  of  the  ''freedom'"  of  those  under  relig- 
ious vows  : 


256  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  would  ask,  in  the  name  of 
charity  and  sound  reason,  can  any  plausible  motive  be 

"  It  is  true  that  even  in  the  cloisters  there  are  some  ....  who  do 
not  hve  as  reUgious  ought  to  Hve.  To  be  a  good  reUgious  and  to  be  con- 
tent are  one  and  the  same  thing I  have  been  accustomed  to  say 

that  a  religious  in  her  convent  enjoys  a  foretaste  of  paradise,  or  suf- 
fers AN  ANTICIPATION  OF  HELL.  To  cudure  the  pains  of  hell  is  to  be 
separated  from  God  ;  to  be  forced  against  the  inclinations  of  na- 
ture to  do  the  will  of  others  ;  to  be  distnisted,  despised,  reproved,  and 
CHASTISED  by  those  icitli  lohom  %ve  live ;  to  be  shut  up  in  a  place  cf 
confinement  from  WHICH  IT  IS  IMPOSSIBLE  TO  ESCAPE  ;  in  a  word,  it 
is  to  be  in  continual  torture,  without  a  'moment's  peace  V 

Elsewhere  the  language  of  this  saint  is,  if  possible,  even  more  ex- 
plicit. Under  the  head  of  "  Vvliat  ought  a  person  to  do  loho  finds  that 
she  has  become  a  nun  against  her  inclination  ?"  he  says — not,  as  the 
Mother  Superior  of  St.  Joseph's  would  have  us  understand,  that  in  such 
a  case  the  sister  may  open  the  door  of  her  convent  and  go  forth— but, 

"  Perhaps  you  will  tell  me  you  can  never  have  peace,  because  you 
find  that  you  have  entered  religion  [/.  c,  become  a  nun]  to  please  your 
parents,  and  against  your  own  will.  I  answer  thus  :  If  at  the  time  of 
your  profession  you  had  not  a  vocation,  I  would  not  have  advised  you 
to  make  the  vows  of  a  religious,  but  /  xcould  have  advised  you  to  sus- 
pc7id  your  resolution  of  going  back  to  the  world,  and  casting  yourself 
into  the  many  dangers  of  perdition  which  are  found  in  the  world.  I 
now  see  you  placed  in  the  house  of  God,  and  made  (either  voluntarily 
or  unwillingly)  the  spouse  of  Jesus  Christ.  For  my  part,  I  can  not 
pity  you  more  than  I  could  pity  a  person  who  had  been  transported 
(even  against  his  will)  from  a  place  infected  with  pestilence  and  sur- 
rounded by  enemies,  to  a  healthful  country,  to  be  placed  there  for  life, 
secure  against  every  foe. 

"  I  add,  grant  that  what  you  say  is  true  :  now  that  you  are  professed 
in  a  convent,  and  that  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  leave  it,  tell  me, 
what  do  you  wish  to  do1  If  you  have  entered  religion  [i.  e.,  become 
a  nun]  against  your  inclination,  you  must  now  remain  with  cheerful- 
ness. If  you  abandon  yourself  to  melancholy,  you  must  lead  a  life  of 
misery,  and  will  expose  yourself  to  great  danger  of  suffering  a  hell  here 
and  another  hereafter.  You  must  then  make  a  virtue  of  necessity ;  and 
if  the  devil  has  brought  you  into  religion  [i.  e.,  a  nunnery]  for  your  de- 
struction, let  it  be  your  care  to  avail  yourself  of  your  holy  state  for  your 
salvation,  and  to  become  a  saint.     Give  yourself  up  to  God  from  the 


EEPLY   TO   THE    MOTHER    SUPERIOIVS    LETTER.    257 

assigned  why  I  should  escape  from  the  mstitution  at 
a  risk   of  detection   and  punishment,  and  travel  ten 

heart,  and  I  assure  you  that  by  so  doing  you  shall  become  more  con- 
tent than  all  the  princesses  and  queens  of  this  world.  Being  asked  his 
opinion  regarding  a  person  who  had  become  a  nun  against  her  will,  St. 
Francis  de  Sales  answered :  '  It  is  true  that  this  child,  if  she  had  not 
been  obliged  by  her  parents,  would  not  have  left  the  world  ;  but  this 
is  of  little  importance,  provided  she  knows  that  the  force  employed  by 
her  parents  is  more  useful  to  her  than  the  permission  to  follow  her 
own  will.  For  now  she  can  say.  If  I  had  not  lost  such  liberty,  I  should 
have  lost  true  liberty.'  The  saint  meant  to  say,  that,  had  she  not  been 
compelled  by  her  parents  to  become  a  nun,  her  liberty,  which  would 
have  induced  her  to  remain  in  the  world,  would  have  robbed  her  of  the 
true  liberty  of  the  children  of  God,  which  consists  in  freedom  from  the 
chains  and  dangers  of  this  world." — P.  26,  549-551. 

Here,  then,  is  the  Mother  Superior  of  St.  Joseph's  directly  at  issue, 
not  only  with  Liguori,  but  with  the  friend  of  the  founder  of  her  own 
order,  the  holy  Francis  de  Sales  !  Perhaps,  however,  the  statements  are 
reconcilable.  The  Mother  Superior  is  speaking  to  a  Protestant  world, 
outside  the  walls.  To  them  she  says.  Don't  believe  these  stories 
about  forced  seclusion,  and  all  that ;  there  is  perfect  liberty  here  ;  who- 
ever wills  to  leave  is  as  free  as  air.  But  to  the  poor  prisoners  inside 
she  would  doubtless  agree  with  the  saint  in  reasoning,  You  must  make 
a  virtue  of  necessity ;  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  leave  I 

With  reo-ard  to  those  members  of  the  sisterhood  who,  having  finish- 
ed their  probation,  are  sent  out  into  the  world  ojn  their  errands  of  pros- 
elytism  in  hospitals  and  private  houses,  there  is  no  one  that  ques- 
tions their  voluntary  adherence  to  the  ordfer  whose  interests  they  are 
servino- ;  nor  does  any  one  doubt  that  there  are,  in  the  mother-house 
itself,  a  large  proportion,  if  not  a  majority  of  members,  whose  choice 
it  is,  from  whatever  motive,  to  remain  in  their  position.  But  will 
this  liberty,  granted  to  some,  be  alleged  in  proof  that  others,  who 
are  confessedly  under  restraint,  are  also  in  the  exercise  of  their  free 
choice  1  Does  this  invalidate  the  testimony  of  numerous  and  unim- 
peachable witnesses,  who,  having  fled  in  fear  and  trembling  from  op- 
pression and  imprisonment,  assert,  and  declare  w^hat  they  have  both 
seen  and  heard  for  themselves  1     Let  an  unprejudiced  public  decide. 

For  what  purpose,  we  would  ask  and  reiterate,  are  such  precautions 
taken  against  the  escape  of  persons  immured  in  these  convents  and 
other  religious  houses  1     What  signify  these  tremendous  vows,  this 


258  MISS  bunkley'>s  book. 

miles  on  an  unknown  road,  exposed  to  danger  and 
insult,  if  I  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  departure  at  free 
choice  ?  Until  such  a  rational  motive  be  adduced,  is 
there  not  a  fair  presumption,  at  least,  that  I  have 
spoken  the  truth  ? 

surrender  of  will,  these  gratings  and  bars,  these  prison-like  inclosuresl 
If  there  is  freedom,  why  these  semblances  of  restraint  1  Why  oppose 
the  just  demand  of  a  people  jealous,  for  themselves  and  their  daughters, 
of  that  sacred  right  of  personal  liberty  for  all  guiltless  of  crime,  in  the 
purchase  of  which  their  fathers  poured  out  their  life's  blood  1  Why 
refuse  to  "  bring  the  prisoners  out  from  the  prison  ;"  they  that  are 
"  snared  and  hid  in  prison-houses  ;"  that  are  there  "  for  a  prey,  and 
none  delivereth  ;  for  a  spoil,  and  none  saith.  Restore  1" 

As  for  the  facilities  enjoyed  by  parents  and  relatives  in  communi- 
cating with  the  inmates  of  religious  institutions,  we  shall  examine  this 
point  at  large  in  another  chapter. 


OTHER   FUGITIVES   FROM   ST.  JOSEPH'S.         259 


CHAPTER  LI. 

OTHER   FUGITIVES    FROM   ST.   JOSEPH'S. 

The  Mother  Superior,  in  lier  letter,  endea\ors  to 
make  it  appear  that  no  effort  was  made  after  my  es- 
cape to  recapture  me,  and  very  adroitly  suppresses  cer- 
tain facts  in  order  to  leave  this  impression.  I  shall 
attempt  to  show  how  much  truth  there  is  in  this  state- 
ment, and  account  for  the  fact  that  the  pursuit  was  not 
successful. 

I  have  already  said  that  it  was  not  a  "class-day" 
when  I  escaped.  By  this  I  mean  that  the  teachers  or 
class-sisters  were  not  required  to  he  on  duty  in  the 
academy  upon  that  day,  which  was  Thursday— a  day 
of  recreation  for  the  boarders.  I  had  chosen  this  day 
as  the  most  suitable,  to  avoid  an  early  discovery.  If 
missed  at  the  novitiate  in  the  morning,  it  would  be 
supposed  that  I  was  in  the  infirmary  ;  and,  on  the  con- 
trary,- if  missed  in  the  infirmary,  it  would  be  presumed 
that  I  was  in  the  novitiate.  Such,  doubtless,  was  the 
case  ;  for,  as  I  afterward  learned,  my  absence  was  not 
detected  until  just  before  night  prayers. 

Now,  on  the  supposition  that  the  overseer  was  sent 
the  next  morning  to  the  convent  at  Frederick  in  search 
of  me — a  distance  of  twenty-two  miles — it  is  evident 
that  he  could  not  Ttell  have  returned  to  St.  Joseph's, 


260  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

stopping  hy  tlie  way  at  Crcagerstown,  before  Saturday. 
On  liis  way  through  Creagerstown,  in  going,  he  in- 
quired if  I  was  at  the  hotel,  and  was  answxred  in  the 
neo-ative.  On  his  return,  he  again  stopped  to  make  in- 
quiry, insisting  that  I  must  be  there,  and  demanding 
to  see  me.  The  proprietor  brought  the  message  to  me, 
and  I  consented  to  an  interview.  This  was,  I  think, 
on  Saturday  afternoon  ;  and  I  should  add  that  the  man 
was  intoxicated.  Yet  the  ^lother  Superior  says  that 
"  no  one,  in  the  mean  time,  had  gone  after"  me,  and 
again,  that  "no  one  asked  [me]  to  come  back."  It  is 
clear,  under  these  circumstances,  that  the  two  sisters 
Avho  came  on  the  following  ]\Ionday  could  not  possibly 
liave  done  so  earlier,  as  they  would  not  have  come  on 
Sunday,  and  were  not  made  aware  of  my  locality  until 
the  Saturday  evening  subsequent  to  my  escape. 

It  will  be  seen,  from  what  I  have  stated  elsewhere, 
tliat  some  postulants  are  sent  away  from  the  institu- 
tion, and  this  for  obvious  reasons — the  lack  of  requi- 
sites, as  wealth  or  expectation  of  property,  talent 
above  mediocrity,  beauty,  education,  accomplishments, 
or  the  possession  of  some  traits  of  character  which 
render  them  unht  for  the  purposes  of  the  community. 
Of  such,  and  such  only,  can  it  be  said  with  truth  that 
they  are  "  urged  to  go.''^ 

■The  JMother  Superior  states  that  "every  sister  or 
novice  here  or  elsewhere  attached  to  our  community  is 
not  only  free  to  leave  us,  but  is  urged  by  us  to  go 
whenever  she  may  think  it  her  duty  to  do  so."  If 
this  be  true,  it  is  scarcely  credible  that  a  single  in- 
mate, for  the  sake  of  mere  notoriety,  should  confront 
the  danger  and  shame  of  a  steal^iy  departure  rather 


OTHER    ^L'l;lTl^•ES    FKOM    ST.   JOSEPH'S.  261 

than  make  a  peaceful  and  permitted  egress  from  the 
institution.  But  the  case  is  not  a  solitary  one.  There 
are  a  sufficient  number  of  cases  to  prove,  beyond  the 
doubt  of  the  unbiased,  that  restraint  is  exercised  in 
the  matter. 

In  the  month  of  June,  1853,  a  novice  who  had  es- 
caped from  St.  Joseph's  was  pursued  and  caught  on 
the  farm  of  ]\Ir.  John  Dorsey,  four  miles  south  of  Em- 
mettsburg,  on  the  main  road  leading  to  Frederick  City. 
Her  pursuers  were  two  "  sisters,"  who  traveled  in  a 
carriage.  When  the  poor  fugitive  recognized  them, 
she  left  the  road  and  endeavored  to  escape  through  a 
field  of  wheat ;  but,  leaping  from  the  vehicle,  the  sis- 
ters overtook  her,  and,  seizing  her  by  the  arms,  led  her 
to  the  carriage,  placed  her  in  it,  and  drove  back  to  the 
institution.  This  much,  which  can  be  proved  in  a 
court  of  justice,  is  all  tliat  is  known  of  the  occurrence. 
What  was  the  destiny  of  this  unhappy  girl  is  a  mys- 
tery probably  never  to  be  solved. 

The  following  letter  concerning  the  escape  of  anoth- 
er novice  speaks  for  itself.  The  writer  is  an  intelli- 
gent Presbyterian  clergyman  of  high  character  in  Em- 
mettsburg.  The  communication  was  made  to  a  friend 
who  made  inquiry  relative  to  the  circumstance. 

*'  Emmettsburg,  February  21,  1853. 

"Deae  Sir, — The  questions  you  ask  with  respect 
to  the  young  lady  who  eloped  from  St.  Joseph's  and 
came  to  my  house  I  answer  thus : 

"  She  called  herself  Helen  O'Here,  O'Here  being 
the  name  of  her  mother's  present  husband.  Her  true 
name,  she  said,  was  Grier.     She  was  a  novice,  and  had 


262  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

been  raised  at  Albany,  New  York.  If  not  born  in 
Ireland,  she  was  of  Irish  extraction.  She  was  at  my 
house  for  two  or  three  weeks.  She  left  St.  Joseph's, 
not  abjuring  the  Catholic  faith,  but  because  at  the 
institution  she  was  oppressed  with  unusual  labor,  and 
had,  as  she  said,  no  time  for  devotion,  the  priest  often 
assuring  her  and  her  co-operatives  that  this  labor,  hon- 
estly performed,  would  be  as  acceptable  as  their  pray- 
ers. She  entered  as  a  novice,  under  the  impression 
that  this  place  was,  indeed,  the  centre  of  holy  influ- 
ences, and  that  nowhere  else  could  she  serve  her  Maker 
with  such  entire   self-consecration ;  but  (as  she  said) 

SHE  FOUND  NOTHING  LIKE  EELIGION  THEEE.      I  asked 

her  but  few  questions,  but  she  spoke  with  much  free- 
dom, and  sometimes,  I  thought,  with  intemperate  ar- 
dor. I  heard  her  assert  that  'if  continuing  to  be  a 
"  Sister  of  Charity"  would  certainly  take  her  to  heav- 
en, she  would  not  consent,'  so  decided  was  her  disgust 
with  what  she  had  seen  and  passed  through. 

"  She  was  accompanied  on  her  return  to  Albany  by 
Mr.  J.,  who  resides  in  the  State  of  Vermont,  and  who 
kindly  took  charge  of  her.  Dr.  x\.  and  Mr.  D.  G.  ad- 
vanced the  necessary  funds,  the  amount  of  which  was 
shortly  returned. 

^r  *  *  *  *  * 

"  She  never  said  she  was  not  a  Catholic,  and  she  is 
at  this  time  with  her  mother  in  Albany. 

"  Very  possibly,  all  these  statements  she  may,  un- 
der certain  influences,  say  are  false. 

"E.  S.  Geier. 
"Rev.  G.  W.  A." 


OTHER   FUGITIVES   FEOM   ST.  JOSEPH'S.         263 

Tlie  reader  will  note  the  peculiar  features  of  the  case 
here  stated.  Helen  O'Here  was  evidently  brought  up 
in  the  Koman  Catholic  Church,  and  was  averse  to  di- 
vulge the  true  reasons  for  her  escape.  The  causes  al- 
leged by  her  are  not  sufficient  to  account  for  the  strong 
and  decided  expressions  of  disgust  and  aversion  utter- 
ed by  her  in  reference  to  the  institution. 

I  might  confidently  rest  my  case  here,  the  chief  as- 
sertion of  the  ^lother  Superior  having  been  clearly  dis- 
proved— that,  namely,  of  the  entire  liberty  of  all  the 
inmates  of  the  institution  to  depart  at  pleasure.  Lit- 
tle reliance  can  be  placed  upon  the  assertions  connect- 
ed with  such  an  utter  distortion  of  facts  ;  but  I  desire 
to  notice  a  few  additional  passages  in  the  letter,  and 
shall  consider  them  in  as  brief  a  manner  as  possible. 


264  MlfcJS   BUNKLEr'S   BOOK. 


CHAPTER  LII. 

REPLY    CONTINUED. 

"  DuEiNG  the  ten  months  that  she  was  with  us,  she 
hot  only  appeared  happj,  "but  constantly  professed  to 
be  so,  and  thus  continued  to  express  herself  up  to  the 
very  eve  of  her  departure." 

The  motives  that  compelled  me  to  conceal  my  dis- 
content and  sorrow  while  a  member  of  the  community 
1  have  already  stated.  The  slightest  murmur  of  dis- 
satisfaction or  complaint  was  sure  to  be  visited  with 
punishment.  This  I  had  learned  by  experience  as 
well  as  observation,  and  hence  my  silence,  my  dissim- 
ulation, if  any  choose  to  call  it  so.  The  situation  was 
a  trying  one,  and  the  views  and  feelings  peculiar  to  it 
should  not  be  harshly  judged  by  one  who  has  never 
been  placed  in  the  same  position  of  distress  and  ap- 
prehension. One  thought  alone  might  influence  to 
such  a  concealment,  and  that  is  the  fear  of  being  trans- 
ferred at  any  time  to  a  distant  and  strange  locality, 
when  all  hope  of  relief  would  be  given  up.  With  this 
anxiety  weighing  upon  her  mind,  and  the  superadded 
dread  of  present  punishment,  who  can  blame  a  timid 
and  unprotected  woman  for  dissembling  her  true  state 
of  mind  ? 

With  respect  to  the  account  given  of  my  letter  to 


REPLY   CONTINUED.  265 

my  friends,  it  will  be  perceived  that  the  only  material 
difference  between  that  and  my  own  statement  lies  in 
the  motive  alleged,  l^licfact  that  a  letter  was  writ- 
ten by  me  to  my  father,  announcing  my  intention  to 
spend  only  six  months  at  the  institution — that  it  was 
read  by  the  Superior  and  disapproved  of,  and  that  the 
writing  of  another  letter  was  procured,  is  admitted ; 
but  this  fact  is  distorted  by  the  extraordinary  asser- 
tion that  I  wished  to  deceive  ony  father.  Is  this  to 
be  believed  ?  Why  should  I  wish  to  practice  this  de- 
ception. Far  from  it.  I  was  chiefly  anxious  to  con- 
fess my  error,  to  tell  him  of  my  sad  disappointment, 
to  acquaint  him  with  my  change  of  views. 

But  if,  as  the  Superior  states,  letters  from  members 
of  the  community  are  always  sent  as  addressed,  and 
"pen,  ink,  and  paper  to  write  to  their  friends  are  al- 
ways at  the  disposal  of  any  one  inclined  to  withdraw," 
how  came  it  that  she  read  this  letter  of  mine  f  Why 
was  it  not  forwarded  without  examination  f 

I  might  thus  continue  to  examine,  seriatim,  the  sev- 
eral statements  composing  this  ingenious  document, 
but  I  can  not  think  this  necessary.  At  all  events, 
having,  in  the  2:)receding  pages,  told  my  unvarnished 
story,  I  can  do  no  more  than  reiterate.  Let  me  only 
add,  that  this  "freedom  to  depart  at  will"  is  a  mere 
fiction  for  the  uninitiated.  It  is  well  known  who  can 
be  trusted  and  who  must  be  watched.  Su2:)pose,  how- 
ever, that  such  a  rule  exists,  to  the  effect  that  all  who 
wish  to  do  so  are  at  liberty  to  depart.  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  many  would  leave  the  institution 
even  openly  and  by  daylight,  without  means,  friends, 
or  a  knowledge  of  the  locality,  and  throw  themselves 

M 


266  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

upon  strangers,  with  the  certainty,  too,  that  their  char- 
acter would  be  assailed.  But  suppose  that  one  should 
summon  the  resolution  to  make  the  attempt.  Pre- 
texts and  means  would  most  unquestionably  be  found 
speedily  enough  to  detain  her.  Those,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  have  no  desire  to  leave^  would,  if  asked, 
promptly  reply  that  "they  could  go  home  if  they 
chose."  But  let  them  grow  discontented  and  try  it  I 
They  would  find  it  a  promise  made  only  to  the  ear. 


ANONYMOUJS   ATTACKS.  267 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

ANONYMOUS   ATTACKS. 

In  addition  to  the  letters  which  I  have  thus  noticed, 
there  have  been  made  various  allegations  and  insin- 
uations of  a  baser  kind.  Some  of  these  are  ridicu- 
lous, involving  my  mental  sanity,  etc.  ;  others,  more 
malignant,  accusing  me  of  willful  falsehood  and  decep- 
tion. Those  who  know  me  can  decide  upon  these 
charges.  Vulgar  and  threatening  letters,*  from  sources 
unknown,  have  also  reached  me,  the  contents  of  which 
were  of  a  nature  to  provoke  only  contempt  and  dis- 
gust. That  the  public  may  judge  of  these  effusions, 
I  subjoin  copies  of  two,  written,  evidently,  in  a  dis- 
guised hand,  and  by  the  same  person,  whom  I  suppose 
to  be  a  priest,  whose  signature,  however,  can  not  be 
made  out.  Both  are  post-marked  Baltimore,  one  bear- 
ing date  January  23d,  and  the  other  March  16th,  but 
the  inside  contains  neither  place  nor  date. 

*'  Miss  Bunkley, — It  is  announced  in  the  '  Fred- 
erick Examiner,'  and  copied  into  the  Baltimore  papers 
of  this  morning,  that  you  are  engaged  in  writing  a 
work  for  publication  regarding  your  disgraceful  con- 
duct at  St.  Joseph's,  Emmettsburg. 

"  Ag  it  appears  to  be  your  intention  to  gain  a  little 


268  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

notoriety,  your  situation  is  any  thing  but  an  {im)e7i- 
viable  one.  The  notorious  Maria  Monk,  who  publish- 
ed, a  few  years  since,  'Awful  Disclosures,'  and  was 
backed  by  a  host  of  idle  vagabonds — Protestant  preach- 
ers (who  are  now,  we  learn,  engaged  in  the  same 
dirty  work  with  you  at  Norfolk),  was  confined  in  the 
New  York  City  Prison,  where  she  had  been  sent  as  a 
common  vagabond,  thief,  and  open  prostitute,  and  died 
there.  The  public,  having  been  humbugged  so  often 
by  such  lying  tales,  will  not  soon  again  encourage  any 
similar  work.  Do  you  understand  that !  !  I  And  you 
may  inform  the  Protestant  preachers,  who  are  now  gull- 
ing you,  that  their  eiforts  will  be  all  in  vain.  Come, 
now,  no  lies  ;  give  us  the  truth,  and  give  us  the  names 
and  residences  of  the  editors  all  over  the  Union  that 
have  made  offers  unprecedented  for  a  narrative  of  your 
life.  Ha  I  you  are  caught  in  your  own  trap,  eh !  Oh 
shame !  shame  !  !  shame !  !  !  When  your  work  ap- 
pears, I  will  give  you  and  your  fellow  co-laborers  such 
a  basting  through  the  public  press  as  will  make  you 
shed  almost  tears  of  blood,  as  I  know  something  about 
you.  So  look  out !  publish  the  work,  now,  if  you  dare. 
Send  this  to  the  editor  of  that  vile  sheet,  the  Frederick 
Examiner.  Your  very  obedient  servant." 

So  much  for  No.  1,  whose  threatened  excoriation 
and  denunciation  of  the  "Protestant  preachers,"  the 
"Frederick  Examiner,"  and  my  humble  self,  judging 
from  the  above  classic  and  scathing  epistle,  are  doubt- 
less tremblingly  anticipated  by  all  the  objects  of  the 
writer's  wrath.  No.  2  is  still  more  refined,  delectable, 
and  overwhelming. 


ANONYMOUS   ATTACKS.  201) 

"  Miss  Bunkley, — I  inclose  you  a  letter,  publish- 
ed in  last  Saturday's  'Catholic  Mirror,'  for  your  in- 
formation, and  in  order  that  you  may  know  what  a 
very  pretty  notoriety  you  may  have  obtained  through- 
out the  land — another  '  Maria  Monk' — a  new  author- 
ess of  '  Awful  Developments' — '  Two  Years  in  a  Con- 
vent.' How  much  money  have  you  received  from  the 
many  and  numerous  letters  you  have  received  from 
editors  and  publishers  in  every  part  of  the  Union !  !  ! 
Bah !  when  you  do  utter  falsehoods,  you  know  how  to 
utter  a  good  one.  Bah !  you  common  ass !  all  you 
want  is  that  animal's  long  ears,  his  tail,  and  hoofs,  to 
make  a  complete  ass  of  yourself.  You  put  out  a 
work !  !  That  you  are  unable  to  do.  The  miserable 
wretches  of  preachers  who  have  been  with  you  may 
indeed  publish  a  second  edition  of '  Maria  Monk,'  who 
died  in  New  York  City  Prison  in  September,  1839, 
where  she  had  been  confined  as  a  common  prostitute, 
a  common  drunkard,  and  a  common  thief.  Why  did 
not  those  preachers  fly  to  her  aid,  to  rescue  her  from 
so  vile  an  end  ?  This  is  the  miserable  end  of  all  who 
attack  the  Church  founded  and  established  by  Jesus 
Christ,  and,  as  He  says,  '  the  gates  of  hell  shall  never 
prevail'  Oh  !  when  your  death-bed  scene  comes,  how 
will  your  tune  be  altered.  '  You  shall  call  upon  me,' 
says  our  Lord,  '  and  you  shall  not  find  me,  and  you 
shall  die  in  your  sins.'  I  have  been  waiting  a  long 
time  now  for  your  work ;  come,  come,  let  the  public 
have  it.  But  I  can  assure  you,  I  stand  ready  to  put 
the  dissecting-knife  over  it  in  a  manner  you  little 
dream  of — so  now  beware !  Yours,  etc." 


270  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

Accompanying  this  precious  effusion  was  a  docu- 
ment from  the  Catholic  Mirror^  purporting  to  be  a 
letter  from  a  personage  who  signs  himself  *' J.  J.  E. 
N.,"  and  speaking  of  my  escape  from  St.  Joseph's.  It 
contains  little  else  than  a  repetition  of  what  the  Moth- 
er Superior  had  said  before.  The  initials  appended  to 
this  article  I  recognized  as  those  of  a  Catholic  priest, 
named  Norman,  who  has  an  elderly  sister  at  the  insti- 
tution, and  whose  visits,  of  course,  are  eagerly  wel- 
comed. I  recollect  perfectly  the  circumstances  of  a 
visit  made  by  him  during  my  stay  at  St.  Joseph's,  and 
the  pains  taken  to  render  it  agreeable.  The  article, 
however,  contains  no  intimation  that  its  author  was  a 
priest — one  of  a  class  whose  interests  and  purposes 
are  well  subserved  by  lavishing  praises  on  these  insti- 
tutions, these  "  priests'  prisons  for  women,"  as  they 
have  been  not  inaptly  styled  by  an  eloquent  and  fear- 
less writer. 


THE  author's   design.  271 


CHAPTEE  LIV. 

THE   author's   design. 

The  public  mind  lias  begun  to  appreciate,  with  some 
degree  of  correctness,  the  evil  influence  of  monastic  es- 
tablishments, and  those  of  a  kindred  character.  It 
has,  at  least,  commenced  to  perceive  the  anomaly  of 
such  a  system  of  personal  restraint  and  forced  obedi- 
ence in  a  land  of  free  institutions  and  liberal  princi- 
ples. Jesuitism,  in  its  worst  phase,  is  now  the  con- 
servative power  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  com- 
pelled, in  self-preservation,  a  second  time  to  appeal  to 
the  order  of  Loyola  for  aid  and  defense.  The  United 
States  teem  with  these  intriguing  priests,  as  well  as 
with  their  confederates,  the  ''  Jesuits  of  the  short 
robe,"  or  lay  Jesuits,  among  whom  even  women  are 
numbered.  Convents  and  religious  communities,  such 
as  those  of  the  "  Sisters  of  Charity"  and  the  "  Sisters 
of  Mercy,"  are  among  their  chief  instrumentalities  to 
promote  the  ends  of  the  papacy.  The  most  strenuous 
efforts  are  made,  in  every  variety  of  mode,  to  augment 
the  numbers  and  swell  the  resources  of  these  institu- 
tions, and  hence  the  alacrity  and  energy  with  which 
so  many  protectors  rush  to  their  vindication  when  it  is 
threatened  to  reveal  the  truth  concerning  them.  Nor 
is  it  always  the  case  that  exertions  to  secure  fresh  vie- 


272  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tims  are  confined  to  the  use  of  persuasion  and  advice, 
but  physical  assistance  can  be  tendered  to  convey 
those  whom  circumstances  might  prevent  from  follow- 
ing the  desired  course  to  the  place  of  confinement. 
There  is  a  married  lady  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  St. 
Joseph's  who  has  been  known  to  take  young  girls,  in 
the  absence  of  their  parents,  without  the  consent  of 
their  natural  protectors,  and  despite  their  known  wish- 
es, and  remove  them  to  that  institution  and  to  the 
convent  in  Frederick.  I  have  in  my  possession  the 
names  of  the  parties,  and  can,  if  necessary,  give  proof 
of  the  occurrences. 

If,  by  my  simple  narration  of  facts,  I  shall  succeed 
in  communicating  a  salutary  caution  to  enthusiastic 
and  innocent  girls,  who,  by  devout  and  blissful  pic- 
tures of  a  "religious"  state,  artfully  presented  to  their 
minds,  may  have  been  led  to  entertain  the  thought  of 
becoming  members  of  a  convent,  or  an  institution  of 
similar  nature,  I  shall  have  reached  my  utmost  aim. 
For  such  I  entertain  the  warmest  sympathy,  and  the 
kindest  appreciation  of  their  motives  and  desires.  But 
I  would,  God  helping  me,  preserve  them,  if  it  be  pos- 
sible, from  suffering,  sorrow,  and,  it  may  be,  moral 
death.  He  who  reads  the  heart  knows  the  purity  of 
my  intention  and  the  truth  of  my  declarations. 


INTERVIEWS   WITH  MY   CONFESSOK.  273 


CHAPTER  LV. 

INTERVIEWS    WITH   MY   CONFESSOR. 

I  HAVE  only,  in  conclusion,  to  relate  one  of  the  at- 
tempts made  to  bring  me  back  within  the  possession 
of  my  enemies,  and  into  the  pale  of  the  Church  of 
Rome.  To  do  this  understandingly,  reference  must 
be  made  to  the  period  of  my  entrance  upon  convent 
life. 

When  on  my  way  to  St.  Joseph's,  to  enter  as  a  pos- 
tulant  at  that  institution,  I  wrote  to  my  confessor, 

the  Rev.  ,  of  Norfolk,  and  acquainted  him  with 

the  determination  at  which  I  had  arrived,  contrary, 
however,  to  his  own  advice.  My  letter  was  mailed  at 
a  small  town  between  Baltimore  and  Emmettsburg.  I 
do  not  know  that  he  ever  received  it.  As  I  have  else- 
where stated,  I  saw  him  at  the  institution.  He  was 
not  of  the  Order  of  Lazarists,  and  had  often  recom- 
mended me  not  to  go  to  St.  Joseph's. 

Some  months,  however,  subsequent  to  my  entrance, 
his  sister  was  placed  there  as  a  boarder.  It  was  not 
long  before  her  health  began  to  fail.  I  frequently  saw 
her  in  tears,  and  at  times,  when  passing  her,  endeavor- 
ed to  learn  the  cause  of  her  distress.  I  noticed  that 
she  was  not  treated  with  kindness  by  the  community, 
and  on  one  occasion,  when  meeting  her  in  the  passage 
M2 


274 

to  the  infirmary,  whither  she  had  been  sent,  she  told 
me  of  her  unhappiness,  of  her  desire  to  return,  and  how 
she  wished  lier  brother  might  know  how  miserable  she 
was.  Saying  this,  she  burst  into  tears.  A  few  weeks 
passed,  and  I  missed  her  from  the  academy  entirely. 
I  learned  that  she  had  been  again  sent  to  the  infirmary. 

One  day,  passing  by  the  library,  I  saw  some  one 
sitting  just  behind  the  door,  and,  conjecturing  that  it 
might  be  this  young  lady,  I  entered  the  room.  I  was 
struck  with  her  pale  and  emaciated  appearance ;  and 
she,  too,  remarked  how  altered  I  was.  She  thought 
I  must  be  unhappy,  and  said  I  should  have  taken  her 
brother's  advice  not  to  enter  the  institution.  I  dared 
not,  however,  confide  my  real  feelings  to  her.  I  had 
often  heard  unkind  remarks  made  respecting  this  young 
person  by  the  directress  and  others  of  the  academy. 

Her  brother,  hearing  of  her  ill  health,  came  to  St. 
Joseph's.  I  saw  him,  but  had  no  opportunity  of  con- 
versing with  him  without  risk  of  being  reported.  Aft- 
er his  departure  she  grew  worse,  and  was  sent  to  the 
Baltimore  infirmary.  The  directors  and  officers  of  the 
community  were  much  displeased  because  her  brother 
had  not  taken  her  away  when  he  came,  and  I  over- 
heard one  of  them  say  that  it  was  a  piece  of  imposi- 
tion, etc. 

This  priest  visited  me  twice  at  my  father's  house, 
the  first  time  shortly  after  my  escape.  This  call  was 
quite  unexpected  to  me.  I  was  seated,  in  company 
with  a  young  lady,  in  the  parlor,  at  the  piano,  when 

the  Rev.  was  announced.     I  was  both  surprised 

and  alarmed.  He  entered,  and,  advancing  toward  me, 
extended  his  hand,  remarking,  "I  am  happy  to  see 


INTERVIEWS   WITH   IVIY   CONFESSOR.  275 

you  at  home,  Josephine."  I  answered  hastily,  "Are 
you  really  glad  to  see  me  at  home  ?"  "I  am,"  he  re- 
peated. I  told  him  that  I  regretted  he  had  thought 
it  necessary  to  call,  as  my  father  would  be  much  dis- 
pleased to  meet  him  or  hear  of  his  visit.  He  then 
stated  his  object,  which  was  to  induce  me  to  go  to  the 
church  to  confession  and  to  attend  mass,  I  told 
him  it  was  impossible ;  that  I  would  never  again  en- 
ter that  Church  ;  and,  indeed,  that  there  was  a  report 
in  circulation  to  the  effect  that  if  I  should  attempt  to 
enter  it,  I  would  be  put  out  for  scandalizing  it.  He 
begged  me  to  fear  nothing  of  the  sort ;  and  assured  me 
that  if  any  person  should  dare  to  touch  me  for  such  a 
purpose,  he  would  announce  his  displeasure  from  the 
altar.  He  left,  urging  me  to  come  to  church,  insist- 
ing that  he  could  not  go  without  my  promise,  and  as- 
suring me  that  he  would  still  continue  to  regard  me 
as  a  membei  of  his  flock. 

In  the  course  of  this  conversation  I  told  him  of  the 
treatment  his  sister  had  received  at  the  institution, 
and  that  I  thought  it  would  be  well  to  send  for  her  at 
the  Baltimore  infirmary,  as  I  knew  she  would  be  hap- 
pier away  from  it. 

On  his  second  visit,  two  or  three  weeks  after  this 
interview,  I  was  alone.  He  remained  half  an  hour. 
He  told  me  that  he  had  come,  thinking  I  was  in  trouble 
in  consequence  of  the  Lady  Superior's  letter.  He  had 
read  it  that  very  day,  and  considered  it  quite  uncalled 
for;  he  was  sorry  it  had  been  written.  As  I  had 
made  no  charges  against  the  institution  publicly,  there 
could  be  no  occasion  for  writing  and  publishing  that 
document.     He  again  urged  me  to  come  to  confession 


276  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

and  to  attend  mass.  I  answered  that  I  had  no  wish 
to  do  so,  but  that,  even  if  I  desired  it,  my  father  would 
never  permit  me  to  enter  his  door  again.  He  was 
aware,  I  said,  how  strong  had  been  his  opposition 
from  the  outset,  and  now  it  would  be  much  stronger 
than  ever.  I  expressed  the  fear  tliat  my  father  would 
be  greatly  displeased  should  he  come  home  and  find 
him  there. 

During  these  remarks,  when  I  refused  to  attend 
mass,  assigning,  among  other  reasons,  that  my  father 
would  not  consent  to  my  doing  so,  he  exclaimed, 
"Come,  then — come  with  me  noio ;  I  will  protect 
you;  I  have  a  home  for  you;  come  with  me!"  It 
was  in  the  evening,  just  before  twilight.  I  trembled 
with  agitation ;  my  former  attachments  and  predilec- 
tions for  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  rushed  upon  me 
with  such  force  that  I  feared  for  my  own  steadfastness 
and  my  safety.  I  did  not  reply  for  some  time  :  a  con- 
flict raged  within  my  breast ;  but  an  earnest  desire  to 
do  my  duty  toward  God  and  my  conscience  prevail- 
ed. I  hesitated,  and  reflected  for  a  few  moments,  un- 
til my  composure  was  regained  and  my  former  de- 
termination resumed.  I  then  said,  faintly,  "I  can 
not  —  I  can  not."  He  rose  from  his  seat,  leaned 
against  the  mantle,  and  seemed  overwhelmed  with  dis- 
appointment. He  repeated,  "  I  can  not  leave  without 
your  promise  to  return  to  the  Church."  I  told  him 
that  could  never  be,  and  desired  that  he  would  not 
come  again.  Then,  laying  his  hand  upon  my  arm,  he 
said,  "  Josephine,  have  I  lost  you  ?  Josephine,  have 
I  lost  you  ?  Have  I  lost  a  lamb  from  my  fold  ?  Am 
I  no  more  to  be  your  coiifessor  ?"     As  I  made  no  re- 


INTERVIEWS  WITH  MY   CONFESSOR.  277 

ply,  he  continued,  "  I  am  at  least  your  friend,  as  I 
have  ever  been  ;  and  when  you  are  alone  in  the  world, 
I  will  be  your  friend,  no  matter  what  may  happen. 
Josephine,  mark  these  words  :  Don't  utter  a  syllable 
of  what  I  have  said  to  you,  either  to  a  Catholic  or  to 
a  Protestant."  He  finally  made  me  promise  that  I 
would  reflect  upon  all  that  he  had  said,  and  write  him 
a  letter ;  and  assured  me  that,  should  I  request  it,  he 
would  not  come  again.  As  he  was  going  toward  the 
door,  he  turned  to  me,  saying,  "How  can  I  leave  you 
without  your  promise  to  come  back  to  the  Church  ?" 
Then,  reluctantly  bidding  me  good  evening,  he  with- 
drew. 

I  went  to  my  room  in  a  state  of  excitement  impos- 
sible to  describe,  and  that  evening  penned  a  letter  with 
a  view  to  prevent  another  visit,  being  greatly  intimi- 
dated by  what  had  passed.  Indeed,  I  feared  that,  had 
he  come  again,  I  should  have  been  lost. 

In  this  letter,  the  details  of  which  I  can  not  now 
accurately  recall,  I  think  I  intimated  to  him  that  I  re- 
tained yet  some  attachment  for  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church,  and  hoped  once  more,  at  some  future  time,  to 
kneel  before  the  altar  where  I  had  passed  so  many 
hours  in  silent  but  ecstatic  contemplation.  This  let- 
ter produced  the  desired  effect.     He  did  not  call  again. 

The  first  visit  of  the  priest  soon  became  known  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  a  report  was  circulated,  as  I  be- 
lieve by  himself,  that  I  had  sent  my  sister  for  him. 
This  was  untrue  ;  I  had  no  wish  to  see  him,  nor  to  be 
urged  to  enter  the  Church  again,  although  there  yet 
lingered  in  my  mind  something  of  those  sentiments 
which  had  been  assiduously  cultivated  for  years  by 


278  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

priestly  influence,  and  had  not  been  completely  dissi- 
pated even  by  those  circumstances  so  calculated  to  re- 
move them  through  which  I  had  just  passed. 

Other  attempts  liave  been  made  to  allure  me  back, 
and  repeated  threats  have  been  made  to  take  me  back 
by  force,  but  of  these  I  shall  not  speak  more  fully.  In 
my  own  mind  there  remains  no  doubt  of  a  deliberate 
pui-pose  to  injure  me,  as  well  as  to  throw  discredit 
upon  my  testimony  with  regard  to  the  institution  of 
St.  Josephs. 


INSPECTION   OF   CONVENTS.  279 


CONCLUSION. 

BY   THE    EDITOR. 
I.    INSPECTION    OF    CONVENTS. 

In  the  year  1852,  a  movement  was  commenced  in 
Great  Britain  for  the  purpose  of  petitioning  the  legis- 
lative body  of  that  country  to  provide  in  some  man- 
ner for  the  placing  of  convents,  and  other  institutions 
of  similar  character,  under  legal  inspection  and  control. 
This  object  will  be  more  fully  gathered  from  the  fol- 
lowing document,  circulated  in  England,  and  signed 
by  many  thousand  women,  for  presentation  to  Parlia- 
ment : 

"  Your  petitioners  are  deeply  sensible  of  the  bless- 
ings of  civil  and  religious  liberty  enjoyed  by  the  peo- 
ple of  this  country ;  but  they  regret  to  observe  that 
from  one  class  of  their  fellow-subjects  these  blessings 
are  in  a  great  measure  withheld,  in  consequence  of  the 
existence  of  the  conventual  system — a  system  alto- 
gether opposed  to  the  pure  and  benevolent  character 
of  the  Gospel,  and  under  which  young  and  inexperi- 
enced females  are  immured  in  nunneries ;  denied  the 
privilege  of  free  intercourse  with  their  relatives  and 
friends  ;  deprived  of  the  profitable  and  wholesome  dis- 
cipline of  social  life,  and  exposed  to  concealed  dangers ; 
from  which  unnatural  restraint,  if  they  should  repent 
of  vows  taken  in  ignorance  or  rashness,  escape  is  al- 


280  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

most  impossible.  Your  petitioners  therefore  entreat 
your  honorable  House  to  pass  such  a  measure  as  may 
effectually  open  these  establishments  to  regular  inspec- 
tion, so  that  no  person  may  be  received  into,  or  de- 
tained in,  or  dismissed  from  them  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  proper  authorities." 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable  that  a  proposition  of 
this  nature  should  have  excited  among  the  Roman 
Catholics  of  Great  Britain,  under  the  instigation, 
doubtless,  of  their  priests,  a  storm  of  opposition  and 
abuse.  Those  who  are  conscious  of  the  integrity  of 
their  motives  and  the  rectitude  of  their  course  do 
not  ordinarily  shrink  from  an  examination  of  either. 
It  might  reasonably  be  imagined  that  a  system  so  con- 
tinually lauded  to  the  skies  as  the  perfection  of  purity 
and  sanctity  on  earth,  could  well  afford  to  court  the 
scrutiny  of  the  public.  Deeds  of  light  do  not  require 
the  darkness  or  the  shade.  An  effort,  however,  to  open 
the  nunneries  of  England  to  a  legal  inspection,  for  the 
prevention  of  possible  oppression  or  restraint,  instead 
of  being  hailed  as  a  measure  which  would  infallibly 
add  lustre  to  the  virtues  and  attractions  of  those  es- 
tablishments, was  denounced  with  every  epithet  of  in- 
dignation and  horror.  It  was  characterized  as  "the 
gTOSsest  of  insults ;"  "  cowardly  and  wanton ;"  "a  most 
unmanly  attempt  to  deprive  these  sisters  of  a  security 
which  even  the  meanest  slaves  have  insured  to  them." 

It  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  appointment  of  such  a 
committee  of  inspection,  constituted  as  was  proposed, 
of  an  equal  number  of  Roman  Catholics  and  Protest- 
ants, could  be  regarded  by  intelligent  laymen  as  in  it- 
self so  dreadful,  and  worthy  of  reprobation.     But,  on 


INSPECTION   OF   CONVENTS.  281 

the  other  hand,  it  is  more  easy  to  perceive  the  motive 
which  may  have  actuated  the  priesthood  of  Rome  in 
making  every  imaginable  effort  to  defeat  the  project. 

The  proposed  measure  involved  no  infringement  of 
the  privilege  of  assuming  religious  vows,  or  living  in 
rcHaious  communities.  "If,"  as  an  able  writer  has 
well  said,  "  ladies  choose  to  dress  themselves  in  a  mo- 
nastic fashion — black,  white,  and  gray — with  rosaries 
and  crucifixes,  it  may  all  seem  to  us  extremely  silly, 
but  we  have  no  right  to  interfere,  and  any  interference 
would  be  an  infringement  of  their  civil  and  religious 
rio^its.  If  ladies  choose  to  live  in  lonely  houses,  with 
ladies  like  themselves,  and  altogether  secluded  from 
men,  it  may  be  a  self-inflicted  penance,  very  foolish  in 

our  eyes,  but  we  have  no  right  to  interfere 

But  if  it  be  found  that  young  girls  of  sixteen  years  of 

age  are  entrapped  into  these  establishments  before  they 

are  capable  of  forming  a  judgment  upon  the  importance 

of  such  a  step ;  if  young  persons  are  allured  into  these 

establishments  with  the  view  of  obtaining  power  over 

every  right  and  property  to  w^hich  they  may  afterward 

become  entitled,  and  then  are  not  permitted  to  leave 

them  when  they  desire  to  depart  from  them  ;  and  when 

they  change  their  religious   opinions,  and  desire  to 

withdraw,  are  not  permitted  to  withdraw ;  then,  I  say, 

we  are  justified  in  interfering,  not,  indeed,  interfering 

against  ladies,  but  interfering  in  order  that  those  ladies 

may  enjoy  the  free  exercise  of  their  civil  and  religious 

liberties.     And  in  asking  that  nunneries  be  subjected 

to  visitation  on  the  part  either  of  her  majesty's  justices 

of  the  peace,  or  on  the  part  of  Royal  Commissioners 

appointed  for  the  occasion,  all  we  ask  is  that  there 


282  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

may  be  secured  to  every  person  in  these  establisli- 
ments  free  ingress  and  free  egress ;  in  other  words, 
that  they  shall  enjoy,  iii  their  full  extent,  their  civil 
liberty  and  their  religious  freedom,'''' 

II.    UNWILLINa   NUNS. 

But  would  Protestant  readers  know  by  what  strong 
arguments  and  illustrations  the  opponents  of  this  pro- 
posed examination  vindicate  the  restraint  of  the  con- 
vent ?  Let  them  hear  the  language  of  "  The  Catholic 
Institute"  of  Great  Britain,  in  a  pamphlet  issued  on 
this  subject. 

"  Under  our  free  government,  are  we  not  ourselves 
living  in  perpetual  restraint  ?  Is  not  our  liberty  cur- 
tailed and  limited  by  many  prohibitions  and  laws? 
Are  not  our  soldiers  hound  by  an  irrevocable  engage- 
ment as  soon  as  they  ai^e  enlisted,  by  which  single  act — 
almost  always  done  from  want,  or  in  a  frolic,  or  in  a 
state  of  intoxication — are  they  not  subject  to  a  disci- 
pline a  thousand  times  more  severe  than  that  of  the 
most  rigid  religious  orders  ?  Are  they  not,  in  truth, 
merely  passive  instruments  in  the  hands  of  their  com- 
manding officers  ?  Are  not  their  diet,  their  sleep,  their 
dress,  even  their  motions,  under  continual  restrictions  ? 
-WiUing  or  unwilling,  are  they  not  doomed  to  go  wher- 
ever they  are  sent,  even  to  the  extremities  of  the  world, 
and  to  the  most  unwholesome  climates,  to  fight  the  bat- 
tles of  their  country,  with  scarcely  a  hope  of  seeing  their 
friends  again  in  their  native  land  ?  Is  not  marriage 
among  us  subject  to  restrictive  laws  ?  When  con- 
tracted as  the  law  directs,  is  it  not  indissoluble  ?  And 
is  not  the  unfortunate  young  person  who  has  been  sac- 


UNWILLING    NUNS.  283 

rificed  to  the  avarice  and  ambition  of  lier  unnatural 
parents,  or  lias  been  the  melancholy  victim  of  her  own 
blindness,  condemned  to  pass  her  days  beneath  the 
yoke  which  she  can  never  more  shake  off?  To  bring 
the  question  nearer  home — by  the  sole  fact  of  our  be- 
ino-  born  in  England,  are  we  not  deprived  of  what  ap- 
pears to  be  an  essential  part  of  liberty,  the  liberty  of 
disposing  of  ourselves  as  we  think  best,  and  of  choos- 
ing the  climate  and  the  form  of  government  wdiich  we 
judge  to  be  the  most  conducive  to  our  happiness? 
From  the  single  fact,  in  which  we  never  concurred  in 
the  beginning,  nor  which  we  ever  subsequently  ap- 
proved of,  have  we  not  contracted  with  our  native 
country  an  engagement  so  irrevocable  that  it  can  never 
be  dissolved  by  any  act  of  our  own  ?'"* 

We  need  add  nothing  to  this  line  ot  argument. 
Monastic  imprisonment  is  justifiable,  in  the  view  of  its 
own  advocates,  by  the  same  pretext  as  the  enlistment 
of  soldiers  under  a  drunken  oath,  or  the  miserable 
bondage  of  a  wife  "  sacrificed  to  the  avarice  and  ambi- 
tion of  unnatural  parents.''  The  condition  of  the  nun 
is  and  ought  to  be  as  hopeless,  as  wretched,  as  despe- 
rate as  these. 

There  are,  then,  tmwilling  nuns  ;  this  is  acknowl- 
edged, as  indeed  it  were  useless  to  deny  it ;  and  their 
confinement,  in  opposition  to  their  own  choice  and  de- 
sire, is  justified.  A^'ay,  as  we  have  seen,  this  unwill- 
ingness is  considered  something  so  frequent  and  so 
much  to  be  expected,  that,  in  the  books  furnished  and 
approved  for  the  special  edification  of  the  sisters,  there 

♦  "Nuns  and  Monastic  Institutes,"  a  tract  "published  under  the 
superintendence  of  the  Catholic  Institute  of  Great  Britain." 


284  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

are  express  exhortations  addressed  to  persons  in  this 
predicament.  We  have  akeady  cited  some  of  these 
passages.  The  great  Saint  Alphonsiis  Liguori  pleads 
very  tenderly  with  these  poor  wretches  of  nuns  who 
are  imprisoned  against  their  will.  He  urges  them  to 
"  MAKE  A  VIRTUE  OF  NECESSITY."  "  Grant,"  he  adds, 
condescending  to  argue  with  the  unfortunate  defense- 
less one,  "  gTant  that  what  you  state  is  true ;  now 
that  you  are  professed  in  a  convent,  and  that  it  is  im- 
possible FOR  YOU  TO  LEAVE  IT,  tell  me,  what  do  you 
wish  to  do  ?  If  you  have  entered  religion  against 
your  inclination,  you  must  now  remain  w^ith  cheerful- 
ness. If  you  abandon  yourself  to  melancholy,  you 
must  lead  a  life  of  misery,  and  will  expose  yourself  to 
great  danger  of  suifering  a  hell  here  and  another  here- 
after. You  tnust,  then,  make  a  virtue  of  necessity.^''* 
Well  may  an  eloquent  writer  exclaim,  "To  what 
paltry  shifts  and  quibbles  will  not  Roman  Catholic 
writers  resort  to  disguise  the  cruelty  of  this  practice ! 
Nuns  are  described  as  superhuman  beings,  as  angels 
on  earth,  without  a  thought  or  wish  beyond  the  walls 
of  their  convents.  The  effects  of  habit,  of  religious 
fear,  of  decorum,  which  prevented  many  of  the  French 
nuns  from  casting  off  the  veil  at  a  period  when  the 
Revolutionary  storm  had  struck  awe  into  every  breast, 
are  construed  into  a  proof  of  the  unvariableness  of 
purpose  which  follows  the  religious  profession.  Are 
nuns,  indeed,  so  invariably  happy  ?  Why,  then,  are 
they  insulted  hy  their  spiritual  rulers  by  keeping  them 

*  The  True  Spouse  of  Jesus  Christ,  or,  the  Nun  Sanctified  by  the 
Virtues  of  her  State.  Translated  from  the  Italian  by  a  Catholic  Cler- 
gyman.    8vo.     Dublin  :  Duffy,  1848,  p.  551. 


UNWILLING   NUNS.  285 

under  the  very  guards  and  precautions  which  magis- 
trates employ  to  secure  external  good  behavior  among 
the  femcde  inmates  of  pHsons  and  penitentiaries  f 
Would  the  nuns  continue  during  their  lives  under  the 
same  privations  were  they  at  liberty  to  resume  the 
laical  state  ?  TF/^y,  then^  are  they  hound  fast  icith 
auful  votes  ?  Why  are  they  not  allowed  to  offer  up, 
day  by  day,  the  free-will  offering  of  their  souls  and 
bodies  ? 

"  The  reluctant  nuns,  you  say,  2,x^feiD.  Vain,  un- 
feeling sophistry !  First  prove  that  vows  are  recom- 
mended on  divine  authority ;  that  Christ  has  author- 
ized the  use  of  force  and  compulsion  to  ratify  them 
when  they  are  made,  and  then  you  may  stop  your  ears 
against  the  complaints  of  a  feio  sufferers.  But  can 
millions  of  submissive,  or  even  willing  recluses,  atone 
for  the  despair  of  those  feio  f  You  reckon  in  indefi- 
nite numbers  those  that  in  France  did  not  avail  them- 
selves of  the  Revolutionary  laws.  You  should  rather 
inquire  how  many  who,  before  the  Revolution,  appear- 
ed perfectly  contented  in  their  cloistral  slavery,  over- 
came their  religious  fear,  and  fled  to  the  arms  of  a  hus- 
band as  soon  as  they  could  do  it  with  impunity.  Two 
hundred  and  ten  nuns  vjere  secularized  in  Spain  dur- 
ing the  short-lived  reign  of  the  Cortes.  Were  these 
helpless  beings  happy  in  their  former  durance  ?  What 
an  appalling  number  of  less  fortunate  victims  might 
not  be  made  out  by  averaging  in  the  same  proportion 
the  millions  of  females  who,  since  the  establishment 
of  convents,  have  surrendered  their  liberty  into  the 
hands  of  Rome!"* 

*  Blanco  White's  "  Practical  and  Internal  Evidence  against  Catho- 


286  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

III.  COERCION  THE  LAW  OP  THE  CONVENT. 

To  satisfy  himself  that  restraint  is  contemplated  by 
the  monastic  system,  let  the  reader  turn  for  a  moment 
to  the  ritual  for  the  assumption  of  the  veil  in  convents, 
and  examine  the  tenor  of  the  curse  there  pronounced. 

"  By  the  authority  of  Almighty  God  and  his  holy 
apostles  Peter  and  Paul,  we  solemnly  forbid,  under 
pain  of  anathema,  that  any  one  draw  away  these  pres- 
ent virgins,  or  holy  nuns,  from  the  divine  service  to 
which  they  have  devoted  themselves  under  the  banner 
of  chastity ;  or  that  any  one  purloin  their  goods,  or 
hinder  their  possessing  them  unmolested ;  but  if  any 
one  shall  dare  to  attempt  such  a  thing,  let  him  be  ac- 
cursed at  home  and  abroad  ;  accursed  in  the  city  and 
in  the  field ;  accursed  in  waking  and  sleeping ;  ac- 
cursed in  eating  and  drinking;  accursed  in  walking 
and  sitting ;  cursed  in  his  flesh  and  his  bones ;  and 
from  the  sole  of  his  foot  to  the  crown  of  his  head  let 
him  have  no  soundness.  Come  upon  him  the  male- 
diction which,  by  Closes  in  the  Law,  the  Lord  hath 
laid  on  the  sons  of  iniquity.  Be  his  name  blotted  out 
from  the  book  of  the  living,  and  not  be  written  with 
the  righteous.  His  portion  and  inheritance  be  with 
Cain  the  fratricide,  with  Dathan  and  Abiram,  with  An- 
anias and  Sapphira,  with  Simon  the  sorcerer,  and  with 

licism."  1826,  p.  138.  Of  this  writer,  who  had  been  a  Roman  Cath- 
olic priest  for  many  years,  Dr.  Newman,  the  distinguished  pervert  from 
Oxford,  says,  while  dissenting  strongly  from  Mr.  White's  opinions, 
"  I  have  the  fullest  confidence  in  his  word  when  he  witnesses  to  facts, 
and  facts  which  he  knew."  He  describes  him  as  a  person  "whose 
honor  you  may  depend  on ;"  "  a  man  you  can  trust." — Lectures  on 
the  Present  Condition  of  Cathohcs  in  England.     London,  1851. 


COERCION  THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONVENT.    287 

Judas  the  traitor,  and  with  those  who  have  said  to 
God,  '  Depart  from  us,  we  desire  not  the  knowledge 
of  thy  ways.'  Let  him  perish  in  the  day  of  judgment, 
and  let  everlasting  fire  devour  him,  with  the  devil  and 
his  angels,  unless  he  make  restitution  and  come  to 
amendment.     Fiat.     Fiat.     So  be  it.      So  be  it." 

This  is  not  the  voice  of  the  Christian  minister,  gen- 
tly encouraging  a  devout  soul  to  engage  upon  a  course 
of  willing  obedience,  to  be  spontaneously  and  joyfully 
persevered  in  unto  the  end.  It  imposes  on  tlie  con- 
science an  awful  weight  from  the  outset.  It  is  design- 
ed to  remain  a  fearful  monument  of  that  one  act  by 
which,  in  the  truthful  language  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
tract  we  have  ah-eady  quoted,  the  poor  nun  is  "bound," 
like  the  miserable  recruit,  "by  an  in-evocable  engage- 
ment." 

And  if,  in  subsequent  years,  at  the  thought  of 
friends,  and  family,  and  home  ;  tired  of  the  dull, 
weary  monotony  of  the  cloister,  or,  it  may  be,  sick 
at  heart  of  the  priestcraft,  the  superstition,  the  vice, 
which  may  be  secretly  practiced  within  the  convent 
walls ;  or,  perhaps,  having  changed  her  religious  sen- 
timents, she  wishes  for  the  free  light  of  the  Gospel  of 
Christ,  yet,  the  moment  she  thinks  of  these  things, 
the  awful  malediction,  as  a  ghastly  spectre,  rises  be- 
fore her, 

'.'  Let  her  perish  in  the  day  of  judgment,  and  let 
everlasting  fire  devour  her,  with  the  devil  and  his  an- 
gels." 

Or  if  her  father,  in  after  years,  desires  to  bring  back 
his  long-lost  daughter  to  his  bosom  ;  or  if  her  mother 
should  sigh  over  the  dangers  which  she  has  learned 


288  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

are  rife  within  the  cloisters ;  or  if  lier  brother,  brave 
and  generous,  makes  an  effort  to  secure  the  freedom  of 
his  sister,  then  the  vision  of  the  prelate  stands  before 
him,  with  crosier  and  mitre,  and  proclaims  the  sen- 
tence, 

"Let  him  perish  in  the  day  of  judgment,  and  let 
everlasting  fire  devour  him,  with  the  devil  and  his  an- 
gels." 

Nay,  were  tlie  chief  justice  of  our  commonwealth  to 
issue  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus  to  bring  this  young 
recluse  into  court  before  him,  or  were  a  committee  of 
inspection  appointed  by  our  judiciary  to  visit  the  es- 
tablishment, and  invite  the  prisoner,  if  such  be  her 
choice,  to  go  forth  free,  the  sentence  falls  upon  their 
heads, 

"  Let  them  perish  in  the  day  of  judgment,  and  let 
everlasting  fire  devour  them,  with  the  devil  and  his 
angels."* 

But  while  the  Church,  in  this  imposing  service,  lays 
upon  the  mind  of  her  captive,  and  on  the  minds  of 
those  who  might  be  induced  to  procure  her  freedom, 
the  most  forcible  restraint  that  fear  and  terror  can  cre- 
ate, it  is  no  less  evident  that  the  practical  measures 
taken  for  the  continuance  of  this  captivity  are  equally 
strong  to  confine  and  imprison  the  body.  The  Coun- 
cil of  Trent  enjoins  all  bishops  to  enforce  the  close  con- 
finement of  nuns  by  every  means,  and  even  to  engage 
the  assistance  of  the  secular  arm  for  that  purpose  ;  en- 
treats all  princes  to  protect  the  inclosure  of  the  con- 
vents ;  and  threatens  w4th  instant  excommunication 
all  civil  magistrates  who  w^ithhold  their  aid  when  the 
*  Reverend  M.  H.  Seymour. 


COERCION  THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONVENT.    289 

bishops  call  for  it.  "  Let  no  professed  nun,"  say  the 
fathers  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  "  come  out  of  her  mon- 
astery under  any  pretext  whatever,  not  even  for  a  mo- 
ment." "  If  any  of  the  regulars  [men  and  women  un- 
der perpetual  vows]  pretend  that  fear  or  force  com- 
pelled them  to  enter  the  cloister,  or  that  the  profes- 
sion took  place  before  the  appointed  age,  let  them  not 
be  heard,  except  within  five  years  of  their  profession. 
But  if  they  put  otf  the  frock  of  their  own  accord,  no 
allegation  of  such  should  be  heard,  but,  being  com- 
pelled to  return  to  the  convent,  they  must  be  pun- 
ished AS  APOSTATES,  being,  in  the  mean  time,  de- 
prived of  all  the  privileges  of  their  order." 

Such  is  the  law  of  the  Church  of  Rome  concerning 
all  who  have  fled  from  the  walls  of  religious  houses. 
It  applies  fully  to  every  one  of  those  who,  in  our  own 
day  and  in  our  own  land,  have  succeeded  in  making 
their  escape ;  and  if  the  institutions  and  the  public 
opinion  of  this  country  alloAved  it,  that  law  would  be 
seen  to  be  pubUcly  carried  out  to  the  letter  among  us, 
as  undoubtedly  it  has  been  secretly  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  those  establishments  which,  in  the  midst  of 
our  boasted  freedom,  constitute  small  despotisms  of 
the  deepest  oppression. 

In  view,  therefore,  of  the  fact  that  by  the  very  tes- 
timony of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  herself,  in  her 
popular  publications,  in  her  pubhc  rites,  and  in  her  au- 
thorized standards  of  doctrine  and  discipline,  an  actu- 
al restraint  is  and  must  be  imposed  upon  the  inmates 
of  monastic  establishments ;  and  in  view  of  the  con- 
ceded fact  that  there  are  some,  if  not  many,  who  are 
thus  unwilHngly  confined,  wc  urge  the  enactment  of 


290  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

some  provision  to  extend  the  territory  of  our  American 
freedom  over  these  institutions  ;  to  apply  the  precious 
principles  of  liberty  of  thought^  speech,  and  person  to 
these  unhappy  "beings  ;  to  proclaim  to  the  reluctant 
though  submissive  bondwoman  of  the  convent,  if  there 
be  but  one  such  in  our  land,  "  There  is  no  law  to  keep 
you  here ;  you  are  free  to  stay  or  to  go  forth ;  make 
your  choice  without  fear  of  man ;  remain,  if  so  you 
will,  but  be  assured  that  you  need  do  so  no  longer 
than  your  own  fi*ee  purpose  shall  last." 

A  few  farther  considerations  will  be  noticed,  how- 
ever, before  we  reach  the  full  examination  of  this  point. 

IV.    FACILITIES   OF   COMMUNICATION. 

It  has  been  urged  that  a  sujSScient  method  of  redress 
for  the  occasional  instances  of  unwillingness  that  we 
have  here  referred  to,  is  provided  by  the  system,  in  the 
free  access  of  parents  and  relatives  to  communication 
with  the  nun.  Such  is  the  argument  of  the  Mother 
Superior  of  St.  Joseph's  in  her  letter  respecting  the 
author  of  this  narrative.  Such  is  the  favorite  strain 
of  all  who  attempt  to  set  aside  the  proofs  of  oppression 
and  restraint  furnished  by  numerous  witnesses.  Our 
nuns  and  sisters,  they  say,  have  fathers  and  mothers, 
brothers  and  friends,  who  may  at  any  time  visit  them 
freely,  and  can  surely  be  relied  upon  to  ascertain  the 
true  state  of  their  feelings,  and  to  procure  their  de- 
parture should  they  themselves  desire  to  leave. 

What,  then,  is  the  fact  respecting  this  facility  of 
intercourse?  What  opportunities  have  the  members 
of  the  convent  or  the  sisterhood  to  acquaint  their 
friends  with  their  views   and  wkhes?     Every  one 


FACILITIES   OF   COIklMUNICATION.  291 

knows  how  it  is.  The  interview,  when  allowed  at  all, 
takes  place  at  an  iron  grating,  where  the  nun  stands 
like  a  prisoner  behind  bars,  which  present  an  impass- 
able barrier.  These  interviews  generally,  if  not  in- 
variably, take  place  in  the  presence  of  a  third  person — 
a  nun  appointed  for  the  purpose.  The  sister,  taught, 
as  we  shall  see,  to  regard  these  interviews  as  danger- 
ous to  her  spiritual  safety,  and  carefully  instructed  to 
avoid  all  demonstrations  of  attachment  to  her  former 
state,  and  desire  to  return  to  the  world,  and  required 
to  express  an  entire  contentment  and  satisfaction  with 
the  "religious"  life,  can  not  be  supposed  to  exercise 
a  reasonable  choice  in  the  matter,  or  to  make  known 
her  interior  sentiments  under  this  fourfold  restraint 
of  spiritual  fear,  mechanical  obedience,  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  watched,  and  an  actual  prevention  of  free 
converse  by  means  of  the  iron  barriers  that  separate 
her  from  her  friends.  But  remember  that  the  nun  is 
bound  to  be  in  a  condition  of  abject  submission  to  her 
Superior's  will ;  that  this  is  the  very  essence  of  that 
sanctity  to  which  she  is  taught  to  aspire,  an  entire 
sacrifice  of  moral  independence.  The  idea,  that  with 
such  discipline  and  such  habits,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
dread  of  penance,  whether  it  consist  in  flogging,*  solita- 

*  Under  the  less  harsh  name  oi^  discipline  or  flagellation.  "  This  is 
a  species  of  mortification,"  says  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,  who  died  only 
seventy  years  ago,  "  strongly  recommended  by  Francis  de  Sales,  and 
universally  adopted  in  religious  communities  of  both  sexes.  All  the 
modern  saints,  without  a  single  exception,  have  continually  practiced 
this  sort  of  penance.  It  is  related  of  St.  Lewis  of  Gonzaga  that  he 
often  scourged  himself  unto  blood  three  times  in  the  day  ;  and  at  the 
point  of  death,  not  having  sufficient  strength  to  use  the  lash,  he  be- 
sought the  provincial  to  have  him  disciplined  from  head  to  foot.  Sure- 
ly, then,  it  would  not  be  too  much  for  you  to  take  the  discipline  once  in 


292 

Yj  confinement,  or  irksome  duties,  as  a  determent  from 
infraction  of  the  commands  given  her,  is  simply  absurd. 

"What  progress,"  asks  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,  "can 
be  expected  from  the  religious  who  wishes  to  have  her 
relations  near  the  convent ;  who,  if  she  do  not  see  them, 
is  constantly  sending  letters  and  messages  to  request 
a  visit  from  them  ;  and  who,  if  they  yield  not  to  her 
entreaties,  is  disturbed,  and  complains  by  frequent  let- 
ters of  their  absence  and  neglect  ?  It  is  impossible 
for  a  nun  of  this  description  ever  to  obtain  a  close 
union  Avith  God.  '  "Whoever, '  says  St.  Gregory, '  wish- 
es to  be  truly  united  to  the  Father  of  all,  must  be  sep- 
arated from  relations.'  " 

"  The  nun  who  leaves  her  relations  in  effect  and  in 
affection^  shall  obtain  eternal  beatitude  in  heaven  and 
a  hundred-fold  on  earth  ;  she  will  leave  a  few,  and 
shall  find  many  sisters  in  religion  ;  she  will  abandon 
a  father  and  a  mother,  and  in  return  shall  have  God 
for  her  Father,  and  ]^Iary  for  her  mother. 

"Hence,  convinced  that  detachment  from  kindred 
is  highly  pleasing  to  God,  the  saints  have  sought  to 
be  wholly^  removed  from  their  relatives.  '  For  my 
part,'  says  St.  Teresa,  '  I  can  not  conceive  what  con- 
solation a  nun  can  find  in  her  relatives.  By  attach- 
ment to  them  she  displeases  God,  and,  without  being 
able  to  enjoy  their  amusements,  she  shares  in  all  their 
troubles.' 

"How  applicable  to  you,  O  blessed  sister  !  is  this 

reflection  of  the  saint ! Oh  I   what  an  excess  of 

folly  to  imagine  that  you  can  not  be  happy  without 

the  day,  or  at  least  three  or  four  times  in  the  week!" — The  True 
Spouse  of  Christ,  etc.,  p.  181. 


FACILITIES    OF    COMMUNICATION.  293 

frequently  seeing  your  friends !    Ah !  if  yoio  heej)  aloof 
from  them,  what  torrents  of  consolation  and  happi- 
ness would  your  spouse,  Jesus,  infuse  into  your  soul ! 
St.  ]\Iary  Magdalene  de  Pazzi  used  to  say  that  an  ah- 
horrence  of  the  grates  should  be  the  principal  fruit  of 
the  communion  of  religious.     And  as  an  evil  spirit 
once  said  to  the  venerable  sister,  ]\Iary  Villain,  there 
is  certainly  no  place  where  the  devil  does  so  much  in- 
jury to  religious  as  in  the  parlor.*     Hence  St.  Mary 
Magdalene  de  Pazzi  would  not  even  pass  through  it ; 
and  such  was  her  hatred  of  it  that  she  could  not  even 
bear  to  hear  it  mentioned.     Whenever  she  was  obhged 
to  go  to  the  parlor,  she  would  begin  to  weep,  and 
say  to  her  novices,  '  ]\Iy  dear  children,  pray  to  God 
for  me,  for  I  am  called  to  the  grate.' 

"But  you  will  say,  'What  am  I  to  do?  Am  I 
never  to  see  my  friends  ?  When  they  visit  me,  must 
I  send  them  away,  and  refuse  to  go  to  the  grate  V  I 
do  not  require  so  much  from  you;  but  if  you  refused 
to  see  them,  looulcl  you  do  tvro?ig — would  you  do  what 
would  be  inconvenient,  or  what  is  never  done  by  re- 
ligious ?" 

But  another  injunction  is  given  by  the  same  teach- 
er in  reference  to  intercourse  with  relations  at  the  grate, 
and  we  have  reason  to  beheve  that  the  rule  is  dwelt 
upon  with  much  urgency  in  the  instruction  of  nuns: 
"Be  careful  not  to  make  known  to  externs  the  m- 
ternal  concerns  of  the  convent,  and  particularly  ivhat 
may  tend  to  the  discredit  of  the  Superior  or  the  sis- 
ters.^' 

"Ah!"  continues  the  saint,  "what  rapid  progress 
*  Parlatorium,  the  room  where  the  grate  is. 


294  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

in  divine  love  does  the  religious  make  who  resolves 
NEVER  to  go  to  the  grate.  When  you,  O  blessed  sis- 
ter !  go  to  the  parlor,  be  careful  at  least  to  conduct 
yourself  like  a  religious.  In  your  intercourse  with 
seculars,  you  should  not  only  guard  with  great  care 
against  all  affectionate  exjpressions^  but  should  also  be 
very  grave  and  reserved  in  the  parlor.  St.  Mary  Mag- 
dalene de  Pazzi  wished  her  nuns  to  be  as  uncultivated 
as  the  wild  deer — these  are  her  very  words.  And  the 
venerable  sister  Hyacinth  IMarescotti  used  to  say,  '  The 
courtesy  of  nuns  consists  in  being  discourteous,  by  cut- 
ting short  all  discourses  in  the  parlor.'  "* 

So  much  for  the  reliance  to  be  placed  upon  the  fa- 
cilities of  intercourse  between  the  "  religious"  and  her 
relations  as  a  means  of  redress  or  escape  from  restraint. 
The  author  of  the  present  narrative  has  stated  how  she 
herself  w^as  directed  and  compelled  to  mislead  her 
friends  as  to  her  true  sentiments,  and  to  disguise  from 
them  all  dissatisfaction  with  her  position  at  the  insti- 
tution. 

V.    DESPOTISM   OF   THE    CONVENT. 

There  is  another  consideration,  bearing,  as  we  be- 
lieve, with  no  slight  force  upon  the  propriety  of  legis- 
lative action  with  reference  to  convents  and  other  es- 
tablishments of  like  order.  We  refer  to  the  extent  of 
power  irresponsibly  lodged  in  the  hands  of  the  supe- 
riors of  those  institutions,  and  wielded  by  them  with 
absolute  sway  over  the  moral  and  physical  condition 
of  individuals  completely  abstracted  from  domestic  and 
legal  protection. 

*  "The  True  Spouse,"  etc,  p.  361-366. 


DESPOTISM  OF  'THE  CONVENT.        295 

In  these  United  States — for  it  is  of  tliem  alone  that 
we  at  present  speak — all  women  of  sound  mind  born 
free,  who  have  reached  the  age  of  discretion,  and  have 
not  forfeited  by  crime  their  civil  rights,  are  supposed 
to  live  under  the  shelter  of  laws,  and  to  possess  privi- 
leges of  personal  self-control.  Besides  the  guardian- 
ship of  natural  protectors — their  fathers,  husbands, 
and  brothers,  who  are  generally  those  most  interest- 
ed in  their  well-being — they  can  at  any  time  invoke 
the  interference  of  justice,  and  claim  its  covenanted 
defense.  Surrounded  by  relatives,  neighbors,  and 
friends,  to  whom  they  can  instantly  appeal  against 
even  the  possible  abuse  of  authority  at  home,  they 
are  seldom  exposed  to  restraint,  hardship,  or  maltreat- 
ment for  any  continued  period.  Whatever  the  obli- 
gations of  domestic  regard,  it  is  not  understood  that 
these  involve  the  relinquishment  of  personal  will  with- 
in reasonable  and  lawful  bounds.  This  fact,  however, 
is  not  of  universal  application ;  for  while,  as  a  rule, 
such  freedom  exists  and  is  guaranteed  by  law  to  all 
American  women,  there  is  an  exception  most  signifi- 
cant and  remarkable.  AYe  have  in  the  United  States 
a  considerable  number  of  institutions,  containing  many 
hundreds  of  females,  who  are  under  absolute  and  des- 
potic control.  These  establishments  are  conducted 
by  persons  exercising  an  assumed  authority  not  com- 
mitted to  them  by  the  civil  power,  but  lying  beyond 
its  cognizance,  dispensing  with  its  sanction,  and  ac- 
knowledging no  accountability  to  its  courts.  They 
come  not  under  the  head  of  asylums,  penitentiaries,  or 
prisons.  For  those  there  are  particular  provisions  in 
our  codes ;  they  arc  open  to  official  inspection  and 


296  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

governed  by  official  appointment,  but  sucli  is  not  the 
case  here.  The  subjects  of  this  discipHne,  though  not 
culprits  or  criminals,  are  adjudged  to  close  seclusion 
and  loss  of  natural  immunities ;  like  them,  they  are 
immured  for  life  or  for  a  stated  term,  within  buildings 
surrounded  by  high  walls,  beyond  which  they  can  not 
proceed  without  permission  ;  like  them,  they  are  un- 
der control  of  superiors,  who  govern  all  their  actions, 
though  undesignated  and  unrecognized  for  such  pur- 
pose by  the  state.  They  are  not  looked  upon  as  ap- 
prentices or  persons  held  to  service  according  to  any 
knowm  law  of  the  land,  yet  they  are  bound  by  solemn 
vows  and  obligations  to  absolute  obedience  and  aban- 
donment of  choice  and  volition,  without  hesitancy  or 
reflection.  For  all  the  benefit  they  derive  from  the 
liberal  institutions  of  our  country,  they  might  as  well 
be  situated  under  the  despotisms  of  the  Old  World, 
or  in  a  condition  of  avowed  bondage. 

There  is,  then,  it  can  scarcely  be  denied,  some 
ground  for  the  inquiry,  What  are  these  establish- 
ments, that  they  should  exist  among  us  outside  of  all 
civil  jurisdiction  ?  What  are  these  nunneries  and  re- 
ligious houses,  that  the  daughters  of  freemen  should  be 
pent  up  within  them  like  outcasts  from  society  and 
convicts  of  justice,  yet  unknown  as  such  to  the  judges 
of  our  courts  and  the  legislators  of  our  states  ?  What 
is  there  so  mysterious  within  those  precincts  that  there 
the  domain  of  freedom  does  not  extend,  that  there  the 
light  of  publicity  can  not  enter,  that  from  thence  the 
voice  of  appeal  to  justice  can  not  be  heard  ?  What 
are  these  nunneries  ?  Are  they  institutions  recognized 
and  authorized  for  the  public  good  by  the  government 


DESPOTISM   OF   THE   CONVENT.  297 

of  our  land  ?  Why,  then,  are  they  closed  to  an  inspec- 
tion that  may  insure  against  maladministration  ?  why 
is  not  their  condition  reported  to  the  public  for  approv- 
al or  censure  ?  Or  are  they  establishments  of  a  strict- 
ly private  character,  such  as  our  schools  and  associa- 
tions of  benevolence  ?  Then  wherefore  should  they 
arrogate  to  themselves  over  adults  of  sound  mind, 
guiltless  of  crime,  a  control  of  will  and  action  utterly 
incompatible  witli  the  enjoyment  of  civil  freedom  ? 

Until,  as  we  apprehend  will  not  soon  be  the  case, 
there  shall  be  enacted  by  our  Legislatures  some  spe- 
cial provision  for  the  existence  of  institutions  where 
persons  of  free  birth,  good  fame,  and  mental  sanity 
may  lawfully  be  confined,  restricted  in  their  personal 
freedom,  and  subjected  to  absolute  government  of  will 
or  physical  coercion,  however  they  may  have  been  per- 
suaded to  consent  at  the  outset  to  such  a  course  of  dis- 
cipline—until, we  say,  some  such  law  shall  be  added  to 
our  codes,  the  monastic  system  will  continue  to  be  as 
it  is  now,  illegal.     There  is  at  present  nothing  in  our 
laws  to  warrant  that  system.      There  is  nothing  that 
gives  to  any  individual,  whether  priest  or  layman,  the- 
privilege  of  exacting  the  bounden  service  of  an  Ameri- 
can woman  under  vow  of  absolute  obedience.     There 
is  nothing  there  that  entitles  any  person,  whether  Ab- 
bot or  Lady  Superior,  to  deprive  women  of  liberty  and 
restrain  them  from  exit.      There  is  nothing  that  pro- 
vides even  for  such  a  voluntary  act  of  disfranchise- 
ment as  would  be  involved  in  the  complete  sacrifice 
of  will  requu-ed  by  the  rules  of  the  convent.      That 
system  is  not  only  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  republican 
freedom,  it  is  unknown  to  our  civil  polity,  and  clear- 
N2 


298  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ly  hostile  to  every  principle  of  justice  and  right  that 
belongs  to  our  age. 

It  can  not  even  be  urged  for  the  system  of  monas- 
tic discipline  that  it  should  find  countenance  in  a 
country  where  domestic  servitude  is  recognized  and 
made  legal.  It  may  not  be  compared  for  a  moment 
with  that  institution.  There  is  no  part  of  our  land 
where  laws  do  not  exist  for  the  security  of  the  slave  in 
the  enjoyment  of  life  and  good  treatment.  There  is 
no  state  of  this  Union  where  the  complete  exercise  of 
control  over  life,  health,  and  virtue  is  vested  in  a  sin- 
gle individual  so  absolutely  and  without  the  shadow 
of  responsibility  as  in  the  case  of  the  superiors  of  con- 
vents. 

The  advocates  of  these  religious  penitentiaries  tell 
us,  for  the  quieting  of  all  apprehension  in  the  matter, 
that  tlie  objects  of  this  discipline  are  most  pure  and 
commendable,  that  their  regulations  are  such  as  every 
one  would  approve,  that  the  sanctity  of  its  design  in- 
sures the  excellence  of  the  system.  Such  is  the  ar- 
gument of  Mother  Etienne,  the  Superior  of  St.  Jo- 
seph's, and  a  curious  one  it  is.  If  such  a  line  of  de- 
fense could  be  set  up  in  all  such  cases,  there  would  be 
few  criminals  found  worthy  of  sentence.  Grant  that 
the  regulations  of  a  society  may  be  admirable  in  all 
respects  :  does  that  fact  secure  their  perfect  execution  ? 
Does  it  do  away  with  the  necessity  for  any  check  upon 
abuse  and  injustice  under  the  system  so  wisely  drawn 
up  on  paper  ?  Where  is  the  judge  of  its  actual  agree- 
ment with  these  avowed  regulations  ?  Where  is  the 
court  of  appeal  for  any  complaint  ?  What  opportunity 
of  redress  for  particular  grievances  ?     The  bishop  or 


INSTANCES   OF  ESCAPE.  299 

the  Pope,  doubtless ;  and  whenever,  thanks  to  the  se- 
cret workings  of  Jesuits,  clerical  and  lay,  our  people 
shall  be  prepared  to  establish  the  canon  law  of  Kome 
in  this  country,  then  it  will  be  time  to  acknowledge 
the  sufficiency  of  such  a  plea. 

VI.    INSTANCES   OF   ESCAPE. 

Where  absolute  and  arbitrary  power  resides  in  any 
fallible  being,  the  chances  of  its  abuse  are  unquestion- 
ably great.  Where  restraint  is  imposed  upon  the  free- 
dom of  a  considerable  number  of  persons,  it  is  quite 
probable  that  some,  however  willing  at  the  outset  to 
submit,  may  finally  become  weary  of  their  bondage, 
and  desire  release.  We  have  already  adduced  repeat- 
ed acknowledgments  from  Roman  Catholic  authorities 
to  the  effect  that  there  are  cases  of  reluctant  and  con- 
strained submission.  We  have  only  now  to  instance 
some  few  out  of  a  great  number  of  such,  where  this 
oppression  has  been  felt  to  exceed  endurance,  and  the 
desperate  victim  of  the  cloister  has  been  driven  to  in- 
sanity, or  to  the  hazards  of  an  attempt  at  escape. 

A  single  fact  of  this  nature  might,  to  an  impartial 
judgment,  prove  the  existence  of  those  evils  which  we 
have  been  delineating.  But  these  occurrences  have 
been  irequent  and  notorious.  How  many  similar  at- 
tempts may  have  been  thwarted  and  concealed  from 
public  knowledge  by  the  vigilance  of  those  interested 
in  their  suppression,  we  can  only  estimate  from  the 
frequency  of  such  as  have  proved  successful. 

On  the  18th  of  August,  1839,  a  nun  by  the  name 
of  Olivia  Neal,  formerly  of  Charles  county,  Maryland, 
but  who  had  been  for  nineteen  years  a  prisoner,  under 


300  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tlie  appellation  of  "  Sister  Isabella,"  at  the  Carmelite 
nunnery  in  Aisquith  Street,  Baltimore,  succeeded  in 
escaping  from  that  institution.  After  being  repulsed 
by  several  families,  she  was  received  and  protected  by 
a  worthy  citizen  living  a  few  doors  from  the  convent. 
Efforts  were  immediately  made  by  the  confessor  of 
the  convent  and  others  to  have  access  to  the  fugitive 
and  convey  her  back.  The  rumor  of  this  fact  having 
spread  in  the  city,  an  immense  crowd  gathered  around 
the  house,  and  signified  their  determination  to  prevent 
the  abduction.  The  mayor  and  other  gentlemen  hav- 
ing come  to  the  spot,  she  was  taken  to  a  place  of 
safety. 

This  nun  stated  to  all  who  questioned  her  that  she 
had  entered  the  convent  at  a  very  early  age ;  that  she 
liad  long  desired  to  escape  ;  that  on  one  occasion  be- 
fore she  had  gotten  out,  and  was  met  and  carried  back 
by  the  priest.  She  demanded,  in  a  most  earnest  and 
touching  manner,  the  protection  of  the  people. 

The  assertion  was  at  once  made  by  the  authorities 
of  the  convent  that  Olivia  Neal,  or  "  Sister  Isabella," 
was  out  of  her  right  mind.  This  plea  is  invariably 
set  up  in  similar  cases.  A  physician  was  induced  to 
state  that  she  was  a  "perfect  maniac;"  and  five  oth- 
ers united  in  the  conflicting  statement  that  she  was  a 
^^monomaniac^^''  OY  at  least  afflicted  with  a  ^^  general 
feebleness  of  intellect.''''  Hundreds,  however,  of  the 
most  respectable  citizens  of  Baltimore  concurred  in 
declaring  that  Miss  Neal  gave  every  indication  of  san- 
ity, correct  judgment,  and  resolute  will. 

The  Eeverend  Robert  J.  Breckinridge,  D.D.,  a  dis- 
tinguished and  most  estimable  clergyman  of  the  Pres^ 


INSTANCES   OF   ESCAPE.  301 

Ibjtciian  Cliurcli,  was  at  that  time  a  resident  of  Balti- 
more, and  was  requested  to  have  an  interview  with 
this  escaped  nun.  He  thus  relates  it :  "  zVs  we  en- 
tered the  room,  he  [a  friend]  said  to  her,  '  This  is  Mr. 
B.,'  naming  us.  Her  reply  went  to  our  heart.  She 
extended  her  hands  toward  us,  and,  repeating  our 
name,  said,  almost  convulsively,  '  I  claim  your  protec- 
tion r  We  told  her  we  had  come  to  her  for  no  other 
purpose. 

"  A  rapid  conversation,  in  which  several  took  part, 
immediately  ensued,  from  which  Ave  learned,  in  sub- 
stance, that  her  name  was  Olivia  Neal,  originally  from 
Charles  county,  Maryland,  but  now  called  '  Sister  Is- 
abella ;'  that  she  had  been  put  into  the  convent  very 
young,  and  been  in  it  nineteen  years ;  that  she  had 
been  lo?igf  anxiously  trying  to  get  out,  and  had  once 
succeeded  in  making  her  escape  into  the  street,  w^hen 
she  was  met  2indi  forcibly  carried  back,  and  subjected 
to  severe  penances  ;  that,  having  again  escaped,  her 
anxious  desire  was  for  present  protection — a  desire 
she  repeatedly  expressed ;  that,  however,  she  wished 
all  to  understand  that  she  did  not  desire  to  change  her 
religion,  but  only  her  condition  as  cc  mm  ;  that  she 
did  not  wish  any  violence  offered  either  to  the  nuns  or 
priests  on  her  account,  against  wdiom,  indeed,  she  was 
not  disposed  to  make  any  accusations ;  that  she  felt 
agitated,"  and  unfit  for  any  extended  conversation  on 
the  subject  of  her  past  trials,  and  asked  only  for  secur- 
ity, repose,  and  tranquillity,  till  she  could  collect  her 
faculties  and  decide  on  her  future  line  of  conduct, 
which  was  the  more  necessary,  she  said,  as  they  hcid 
told  her  that  her  mind  iims  weah  ;  and  that,  having 


302  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

no  friends  in  whom  she  could  confide,  she  was  obliged 
to  throw  herself  on  the  public  for  protection. 

"  Much  more  was  said,  which  we  do  not  think  it 
worth  while  to  repeat  at  present ;  but,  as  a  sample  of 
the  general  style  of  conversation,  we  will  detail  one 
item  more  minutely.  Slue  was  asked  if  a  nun  had  not 
escaped  some  months  ago.  '  Yes  ;  it  was  I,'  was  her 
reply.  '  How  happens  it  that  you  were  back  again  V 
'  I  was  met  by  a  gentleman  immediately  after  getting 
out,  and  carried  back.'  'Who  was  that  gentleman?' 
Ko  answer.  'Was  it  priest  Gildea  ?'  'Yes,  sir.' 
'  What  was  done  to  you  when  you  were  carried  back?' 
'  There  are  penances  to  undergo  ;  I  was  subjected  to 
these.'  'Did  they  whip  you?'  No  answer,  but  a 
mournful  smile.  '  Did  they  imprison  you  ?'  '  I  have 
said  I  endured  the  usual  penance.'  She  was  not  press- 
ed farther  on  this  painful  subject,  being  evidently  un- 
willing to  speak  fully  of  it."* 

The  sequel  to  this  sad  story  of  oppression  and  suf- 
fering exhibits  the  triumph  of  Romish  intrigue  over 
the  natural  and  legal  rights  of  a  feeble  woman.  A 
distant  relative  was  found  who  was  willing  to  serve 
the  purposes  of  priestly  craft.  He  came  to  Baltimore, 
obtained  ex  parte  certificates  contradictory  of  each 
other,  insufficient  in  law  or  reason,  none  of  which  were 
sworn  to,  and  no  cross  examination  permitted ;  on 
which  certificates  he  took  his  kinswoman  and  placed 
her  precisely  where  she  had  most  earnestly  desired 
never  to  go  again — under  the  power  of  the  nuns  and 
priests.f     Nothing  more  has  been  heard  of  her  for 

*  Papism  in  the  United  States.  By  Robert  J,  Breckinridge,  D.D., 
p.  235-245.-  .  t  Papism,  etc.,  p.  265. 


INSTANCES   OF   ESCAPE.  803 

years.  ]Miss  Bunkley,  in  the  preceding  narrative,  men- 
tions having  seen  in  the  asylum  at  jMount  Hope  a  per- 
son who,  as  she  had  reason  to  believe,  was  the  unhap- 
py "  Sister  Isabella." 

The  author  of  this  volume  has  also  specified  several 
instances  of  attempted  escape  from  the  institution  of 
St.  Joseph  at  Emmettsburg.  That  of  Helen  Grier  is 
authenticated  by  unimpeachable  witnesses. 

Facts  like  the  folloAving  have  frequently  met  the 
eyes  of  our  readers  in  the  public  journals  : 

"On  the  night  of  the  18th  of  April,  1842,  as  a  pa- 
trol was  going  along  the  narrow  street  which  runs  by 
the  side  of  the  convent  of  the  Bon  Pasteur,  in  the 
town  of  Ouest,  in  France,  he  found  a  girl  lying  on  the 
pavement,  and  screaming  from  the  injury  she  had  re- 
ceived by  a  fall  in  attempting  to  escape  from  the  con- 
vent through  one  of  the  upper  windows  by  means  of 
a  sheet.  On  being  taken  to  the  hospital,  it  was  found 
that  her  leg  was  broken.  When  able  to  speak,  she 
said  that,  on  account  of  a  trifling  disagreement  with 
some  of  the  nuns,  she  was  put  into  solitary  confine- 
ment, and  allowed  only  bread  and  water.  Driven  to 
despair,  she  had  contrived  to  force  away  the  planks 
by  which  the  window  was  blinded,  and  attempted,  in 
the  manner  described,  to  reach  the  ground."* 

"We  have  before  us,"  says  the  writer  upon  whose 
authority  we  have  stated  the  above,  "an  octavo  vol- 
ume of  four  hundred  pages,  entitled  '  Soeur  ]\Iarie,  Ben- 
edictine,' published  at  Caen  in  1846,  written  by  an 
eminent  French  advocate,  ]\I.  Leon  Tillard. 

"  Mademoiselle  de  Monnier,  whose  name  *  in  relig- 

■♦  *  Nuns  and  Nunneries,  p.  216. 


304  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ion'  was  Soeur  Marie  Joseph,  entered  a  Benedictine 
convent  at  Bayeux  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  in  1823, 
and,  by  her  superior  education  and  talents,  she  became 
of  great  use  to  the  convent.     The  other  sisters  were 
ignorant  and  ilHterate,  and  the  new  postulant  was  at 
once  placed  in  charge  of  the  school.     Under  her  care 
it  greatly  throve,  and  the  number  of  pupils  rapidly  in- 
creased.    At  length  she  assumed  the  veil.      Several 
changes  took  place  in  the  convent,  a  new  Lady  Abbess 
came,  and  poor  Soeur  Marie  became  the  object  of  a 
long-continued  persecution,  beginning  with  things  so 
small  as  hardly  to  be  perceptible,  but  which,  like  the 
dropping  of  water  on  the  stone,  wore  upon  the  mind 
of  the  wretched  victim.     She  was  removed  from  the 
school,  some   nuns   having  joined  the  establishment 
who  were  better  educated  than  those  originally  there, 
and,  after  some  time,  no  one  was  allowed  to  speak  to 
her.     This  was  continued  year  after  year.     At  last 
matters  came  to  a  crisis ;  the  Superior  provoked  Sis- 
ter Marie,  drew  her  into  an  altercation,  and  then  de- 
claring that  she  was  inad,  had  her  seized  by  the  gar- 
dener and  others,  and  locked  up  in  a  small  cell.     The 
physician  of  the  convent  was  sent  for,  and,  without 
having  seen  the  victim,  signed  a  certificate  declaring 
her  to  be  mad.     In  the  dead  of  the  night  she  was 
roused  from  her  cell,  carried  off  in  a  carriage  to  the 
Bon  Sauveur  at  Bayeux,  and  there  placed  among  the 
insane  on  the  strength  of  this  certificate.     The  phy- 
sician of  this  new  asylum,  however,  soon  found  that 
she  was  perfectly  sane,  and  at  length  dismissed  her  at 
her  own  earnest  entreaty.     But  where  was  she  to  go  ? 
She  returned  to  her  old  convent,  but  there  they  would 


LETTER   FROM    DR.  DE    SANCTIS.  305 

not  receive  lier.  She  appealed  to  priests  and  bishops, 
to  nuns  and  abbesses,  but  every  door  was  closed 
against  her  except  the  mad-house  of  the  Bon  Sauveur. 
M.  Tillard  generously  took  up  her  cause,  and  endeav- 
ored to  obtain  justice  for  her.  But  all  in  vain.  Worn 
out,  harassed,  and  persecuted,  poor  Soeur  ]\Iarie  at 
length  became  duly  qualified  for  the  Bon  Sauveur. 
Her  mind  failed  her,  and  she  is  now  within  its  walls, 
a  harmless  lunatic !  "* 

In  these  facts,  strikingly  analogous  to  those  con- 
nected with  the  case  of  the  unhappy  Olivia  N^eal,  we 
see  more  manifestly  the  design  of  the  tyrannical  and 
merciless  autocrat  of  the  convent,  working  by  inces- 
sant annoyances  the  mental  ruin  of  the  object  of  her 
hatred,  until  at  length,  successful  in  destroying  the 
power  of  thought  and  will,  her  victim  is  reduced  to 
the  living  death  of  a  maniac. 

VII.    LETTER   FROM    DR.  DE    SANCTIS. 

We  have  now  to  present  some  extracts  from  a  let- 
ter addressed  to  the  editor  of  this  work  by  the  dis- 
tinguished and  excellent  Dr.  De  Sanctis,  who  occu- 
pied for  many  years  the  post  of  curate  of  the  church 
of  the  Maddalena  at  Rome,  was  "  qualificator"  of  the 
Inquisition,  censor  of  the  Theological  Academy  in  the 
Eoman  University,  and  filled  other  prominent  offices 
of  trust  in  the  service  of  the  Church  of  Home.  He 
was  in  this  capacity  commissioned  by  the  Cardinal 
Yicar  to  preach  and  hear  confessions  in  the  convents 
of  that  city ;  and  during  ten  years  and  more,  passed 
scarcely  a  day  in  which  he  did  not  exercise  these  func- 

*  Nuns  and  Nunneries,  p.  219-223. 


306  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

tions  at  some  one  or  more  of  those  institutions.  Writ- 
ten by  one  so  competent  to  speak  from  personal  ob- 
servation upon  the  subject  of  monasticism,  and  so 
worthy  of  trust  as  an  able  and  faithful  minister  of  the 
Gospel  since  his  conversion  from  Roman  Catholic  er- 
ror, we  are  sure  that  these  statements  will  coinmand 
the  attention  of  our  readers. 

THE    CONVENT   A   PEISON   OF   DELUSIONS. 

"The  convents  of  Rome  may  be  designated  as 
prisons — horrible  prisons  of  religious  delusion.  This 
statement  will  require  some  explanation.  A  young- 
girl  at  Rome,  who  is  to  any  degree  interested  in  re- 
ligion, if  she  receives  her  education  at  a  convent,  must 
absolutely  remain  there  forever,  as  I  shall  hereafter 
explain  ;  or,  if  not  so  educated,  must  necessarily  enter 
a  convent  in  the  end.  The  Roman  Catholic  priest 
knows  nothing  of  conjugal  love  in  its  holy  and  chaste 
character,  and  for  this  very  reason  he  hates  it,  he  de- 
tests it,  often  with  the  utmost  sincerity  and  perfect 
good  faith.  The  declamations  of  the  priests,  whether 
from  the  pulpit  or  the  confessional,  against  this  love, 
are  of  a  nature  to  make  one  shudder.  These  men  are 
truly  to  be  pitied :  ignorant  as  they  are  of  the  pure,  the 
legitimate  affection  of  the  married  state,  and  knowing 
only  of  a  sensual  and  bestial  passion,  they  have  reason 
to  declaim  against  such  love.  The  young  girl  who 
blindly  follows  the  path  of  piety,  blindly  believes  the 
priest ;  for  want  of  experience,  she  can  not  distinguish 
the  innocent  from  the  guilty  affection ;  and  when  she 
feels  the  first  impulses  of  that  love  which  would  lead 
her  to  become  a  wife  and  a  mother,  she  confesses  to 


LETTER  FROM   DE.  DE  SANCTIS.       307 

the  priest  as  a  grave  offense  those  sentiments  which 
pertain  to  the  normal  state  in  which  God  has  framed 
her  being.  And  the  confessor,  most  generally  from 
ignorance,  and  with  honest  persuasion,  augments  this 
uneasiness,  declaring  that  this  impulse  is  a  tempta- 
tion of  the  devil  in  order  to  eradicate  the  love  of 
Christ.  He  intimates  that  there  is  no  better  method 
of  overcoming  such  temptation  than  to  fly  from  a  world 
which  is  but  a  troubled  sea,  and  to  withdraw  into  the 
haven  of  security,  to  wit,  the  convent.  And  here  he 
commences  to  adduce  before  the  kindled  imagination 
of  his  charge  all  those  mystic  incidents,  examples, 
histories,  and  revelations,  of  which  the  legendary  lit- 
erature of  asceticism  is  full,  thus  inflaming  the  mind 
of  the  young  penitent,  and  convincing  her  that  there 
is  no  harbor  of  safety  for  her  soul  other  than  the  state 
of  a  recluse.  All  that  she  sees  in  the  world  without 
becomes  to  her  an  object  of  aversion.  The  persons 
most  endeared  by  natural  aflection — father,  mother, 
brothers — become  odious,  and  she  longs  for  the  moment 
when  she  may  inclose  herself  within  those  sacred  walls, 
where  alone  she  now  hopes  to  find  peace  and  salva- 
tion. The  world  is  represented  to  her  as  a  wild  and 
corrupt  stream,  flowing  with  impetuous  current  before 
her,  while  the  convent,  overlooking  it,  ofters  the  only 
secure  retreat.  Her  father,  her  brother,  her  sisters  are 
being  carried  away  by  the  river  ;  for  her  there  is  safe- 
ty only  there.  The  dream  lasts  a  while  after  she  has 
entered,  and  then  it  disappears  ;  tlie  abode  of  peace  is 
transformed  into  a  perpetual  prison,  where  a  life  pays 
for  the  religious  delusion  of  a  day. 

"Many  young  girls  are  drawn  to  the  convents  in 


308  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

this  manner,  but  there  are  others,  and  perhaps  these 
constitute  a  majority,  who  are  attracted  in  a  different 
way.  Many,  to  whom  nature  has  denied  those  exter- 
nal graces  and  charms  which  captivate  the  regard  of 
men,  finding  themselves  neglected,  and  conscious  of  an 
irresistible  need  of  loving  some  object,  seek  to  be  loved, 
as  they  say,  by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  '  Tlie  heart 
of  Jesus'  is  the  chosen  devotion  of  such.  It  is  after 
this  fashion  that  the  '  heart  of  Jesus'  is  represented  at 
Rome.  Our  Lord  is  depicted  as  a  young  man  of  mar- 
velous beauty,  who,  with  a  heart  shining  with  love, 
seen  transparent  in  his  breast,  invites  with  the  most 
winning  look.  The  young  girl  who  has  not  met  with 
a  response  in  the  regard  of  men,  enthusiastically  be- 
gins to  cherish  an  affection  for  this  picture  and  object. 
The  priests  know  well  how  to  encourage  such  a  tend- 
ency ;  they  place  in  her  hands  the  lives  of  St.  Teresa 
and  other  visionaries,  who  relate  their  intercourse  with 
a  heavenly  spouse,  and  already  she  hopes  that  a  like 
experience  will  be  hers.  Another  need  that  she  feels 
is  that  of  making  some  human  heart  the  depository 
of  her  thoughts  and  emotions,  and  for  want  of  a  lover 
she  chooses  as  a  confidant  her  confessor.  With  him 
she  spends  whole  hours  of  every  day  in  secret  collo- 
quies^  and,  supposing  the  confessor  to  be  a  saint,  ac- 
cording to  the  Romish  idea,  the  unavoidable  result  of 
all  this  is  that  she  will  go  into  a  convent.  The  dream 
after  a  while  is  scattered,  and  there  remains  the  sad 
reality  of  a  perpetual  prison  as  the  fruit  of  a  religious 
delusion. 

"  There  is  a  third  class  of  young  persons,  who,  be- 
ing educated  from  childhood  in  the  nunnery,  remain 


LETTER  FROM  DR.  DE  SANCTIS.       309 

there,  and  "become  nuns  without  knowmg  why,  and 
give  up  with  alacrity  a  world  which  they  have  never 
seen.  By  what  arts  and  wiles  they  are  drawn  into 
this  course  I  shall  relate  elsewhere,  when  I  come  to 
speak  of  the  education  given  in  convents. 

MORALITY   OF   THE    CONVENTS   IN   ROME. 

"  Such  is,  for  the  most  part,  the  method  by  which 
the  convents  of  Rome  are  peopled.  I  must  now  say 
a  few  words  respecting  the  morality  of  those  institu- 
tions. 

"  That  there  have  occurred  some  flagrant  abuses  of 
this  nature,  and  more  especially  in  convents  where 
the  education  of  the  young  is  prosecuted,  can  not  be 
denied.  Two  fearful  examples  have  taken  place  with- 
in my  own  recollection,  the  general  publicity  of  which 
created  a  painful  excitement.  The  one  occurred  at 
the  Convent  of  '  San  Dionisio  alle  quattro  Fontane,' 
an  establishment  of  nuns  affiliated  with  the  Jesuits, 
in  which  the  confessor  pursued  a  most  infamous  course 
in  relation  to  a  large  number  of  young  persons  under 
the  care  of  that  institution.  The  other  case  was  that 
of  the  '  Conservatorio  della  Divina  Providenza,' where 
the  confessor  seduced  no  fewer  than  sixteen  of  the 
most  beautiful  persons  educated  in  that  convent.  *  * 
*  *  As  a  general  thing,  however,  the  convent  (so  far 
as  Rome  is  concerned)  is  neither,  on  the  one  hand,  a 
terrestrial  paradise  inhabited  by  angels,  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  it  generally  a  place  of  open  and  shame- 
less crime. 

"An  event  of  no  unfrequent  occurrence  in  the  con- 
vent is  the  *  spiritual  assistance'  of  the  sick.     When 


310  MISS    JBLNKLEir's    BOOK. 

a  nun  is  dangerously  ill,  the  confessor,  director,  or  an- 
other priest  spends  the  night  at  the  institution.  Often 
it  will  happen  that,  in  a  case  of  sickness,  fifteen  or  six- 
teen successive  nights  are  thus  spent.  This  has  hap- 
pened more  than  once  to  myself.  In  the  convent  there 
are  generally  two  well-furnished  rooms  for  such  a  con- 
tingency :  the  one  is  a  small  parlor,  conveniently  ar- 
ranged, where  the  confessor  eats ;  the  other  a  "bed-room, 
where,  also,  nothing  is  omitted  for  his  comfort.  The 
supper  of  the  reverend  father  confessor  is  no  ordinary 
one ;  it  consists  of  all  the  niceties  of  food  that  are  to 
be  procured.  While  the  holy  man  is  at  his  meal,  sev- 
eral nuns  will  be  standing  around  him,  urging  him  to 
eat  this  and  drink  that.  Supper  over,  the  father  goes 
to  see  the  patient,  sprinkles  her  with  holy  water,  and 
then  retires  to  his  bed.  The  doors  are  left  open,  in 
order  that  he  may  readily  be  called  should  the  invalid 
grow  worse.  I  can  not  say  that  all  precautions  are 
taken  in  such  cases,  nor  that  disorders  fail  to  occur, 
and  that  with  sufficient  frequency.  I  can  only  state 
matters  as  I  know  them  to  exist. 

"And  here  I  may  incidentally  mention  a  fact  that 
will  surprise  the  good  Christian  people  of  America,  al- 
though at  Rome  it  appears  quite  natural.  In  Carnival,* 
the  inmates  of  all  the  convents  are  permitted  the  mas- 
querade. The  monks  who  act  as  confessors  send  their 
habits  to  their  respective  nuns,  who  put  them  on,  and 
enact  a  thousand  ridiculous  scenes.  Any  one  can  un- 
derstand the  indecency,  and,  to  speak  more  clearly,  the 

*  A  period  of  five  or  six  days  preceding  Lent,  during  which,  in  Ro- 
man Catholic  countries,  every  species  of  merriment  and  buffoonery  is 
tolerated. 


LETTEK  FKOM  DK.  DE  SANCTIS.        311 

immorality  of  such  procedures  ;  but  this  is  nothing : 
on  the  contrary,  it  seems  so  natural  that  a  nun  who 
should  fail  to  join  in  these  amusements  would  be  re- 
garded as  over-scrupulous  even  by  her  cofifessor  him- 
self. In  convents  devoted  to  education,  there  are,  be- 
sides these,  theatrical  performances,  and  comedies  are 
recited.  To  these  representations  are  admitted  the 
confessors,  priests,  monks,  and  the  relatives  of  the 
nuns  and  pupils.  On  such  occasions  you  would  see 
some  one  of  these,  young  guis  ornamented  with  mus- 
taches, declaiming  the  part  of  an  officer,  and  dressed 
in  uniform,  while  another  would  take  the  character  of 
a  lover,  etc.,  etc.  In  convents  where  superior  sancti- 
ty is  affected,  profanations  still  greater  are  committed. 
There  are  given  dramatic  entertainments  called  sacred, 
and  these  are  nothing  less  than  Scripture  facts  set 
forth  in  comedy.  There  you  would  see  a  young  girl 
assuming  the  part  of  Moses,  another  that  of  Aaron, 
thus  turning  into  ridicule  those  holy  characters,  and 
casting  contempt  upon  the  word  of  God  itself.  I  once 
saw  at  one  of  these  places  a  young  person  who  repre- 
sented an  angel,  while  another  filled  the  role  of  the 
devil.  Between  them  they  concocted  a  dialogue  so  lu- 
dicrous that  every  body  was  exploding  with  laughter. 

HEALTH   IN    THE    CONVENTS   OF  ROME. 

"  In  order  to  make  what  I  have  to  say  respecting 
these  institutions  more  clear,  let  me  divide  them  into 
two  classes  :  the  one  consisting  of  those  where  the  in- 
mates have  no  other  occupation  besides  prayer,  the 
other  in  which  they  are  employed  in  giving  instruction 
to  the  young. 


312 

"  With  regard  to  the  former  class,  we  must  again 
distinguish  those  convents  where  the  rigor  of  discipline 
is  carried  to  such  an  excess  of  fanaticism  as  to  tread 
under  foot  tlie  most  sacred  laws  of  nature  ;  and  here  I 
do  not  speak  of  individual  excesses  of  fanaticism,  but 
of  abuses  belonging  to  the  community  itself,  aj^proved 
and  sanctioned  by  the  Superiors  of  the  institution. 

"  There  is  at  Home,  in  the  '  E-egione  de'  Monti,'  in 
a  spot  almost  unknown  to  the  world,  a  convent  enti- 
tled that  of  the  '  Vive  Sejpolte^  ('  hurled  alive')  ;*  and 
the  miserable  inmates  are  really  in  the  condition  ex- 
pressed by  their  name.  Once  admitted  within  those 
walls,  it  may  be  said  of  them, 

"  '  Leave  hope  behind,  all  ye  who  enter  here.' 

"They  are  indeed  buried  alive.  They  come  to 
confession,  but  a  double  grating,  the  one  at  a  consid- 
erable distance  from  the  other,  an  iron  plate  punc- 
tured with  small  holes  between  the  confessor  and  the 
penitent,  through  which  the  voice  can  scarcely  pass, 
and  a  black  cloth  fastened  upon  this  plate  to  intercept 
even  the  rays  of  light — su.ch  is  the  mode  in  which  the 
confession  takes  place.  When  these  nuns  commune, 
they  present  themselves  at  a  small  window,  about  half 
the  size  of  the  countenance ;  and  there,  with  a  thick 
woolen  cloth  over  the  face,  suffering  only  the  tongue 
to  be  seen,  they  receive  the  element  from  the  hand  of 
the  priest.  In  case  of  sickness,  they  are  led  into  a 
room  called  the  infirmary,  and  there  the  physician  pre- 
scribes for  his  patient  through  an  aperture  in  the  wall. 
If  he  wishes  to  feel  the  pulse  or  draw  blood,  the  arm 

*  More  properly,  '■'■  Bdigiosc  Franccscanc  dcttc  'Vive  Scpolte.^^^ 


LETTEli   FllOM    DR.  DE   SANCTIS.  313 

of  the  invalid  must  be  extended  to  liim  througli  the 
aperture. 

The  physician  of  this  convent  related  to  me  these 
facts  as  I  was  visiting  the  institution,  and  stated  that 
many  of  the  nuns  had  died  in  consequence  of  these 
impediments  to  a  proper  medical  attendance.  He  told 
me  that  on  one  occasion,  indignant  at  this  suicidal 
course,  he  went  to  Cardinal  Patrizi,  the  patron  of  this 
convent,  who  replied  to  his  complaint  that  there  was 
no  need  of  interference,  these  persons  being,  not  sui- 
cides, but  victims  of  holy  modesty. 

"  When  the  nun  enters  this  establishment,  she  is, 
I  have  said,  '  huricd  alive.''  She  must  henceforth 
know  nothing  of  her  relatives.  Once  in  the  year  it  is 
allowed  that  relatives  of  the  first  degree  present  them- 
selves at  the  monastery,  and  speak  in  the  hearing  of 
the  recluse ;  they  may  not,  however,  see  the  counte- 
nance of  their  daughter  or  sister.  When  a  near  rela- 
tive of  a  nun  dies,  the  ^lother  Superior,  on  the  even- 
ing after  that  event,  says  at  prayers,  '  ^ly  sisters,  let 
U.S  pray  for  the  soul  of  the  father,  or  mother,  or  brother 
of  one  of  our  number,  who  died  yesterday  or  to-day ;' 
and  it  is  not  permitted  that  any  one  know  who  it  is 
that  has  died  :  hence  each  imagines  that  it  may  be  her 
own  father,  mother,  or  brother ;  and  in  this  uncertainty 
she  is  left,  in  order  that  she  may,  with  more  fervor, 
from  day  to  day,  pray  for  the  deceased.  Such  is  the 
abuse  that  fanaticism  makes  of  religion !  But  things 
of  this  sort  are  not  generally  known  or  believed,  and 
for  this  reason  I  state  and  affirm  the  facts.  If  you 
should  pubhsh  them,  do  so  with  my  name,  as  I  am 
willing  to  be  responsible  for  them. 

o 


314  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

"  When  a  youtli,  I  resided  in  the  neighborhood  of 
this  convent,  and  I  remember  that  one  day  tlie  Pope, 
Leo  XII.,  made  an  unexpected  visit  to  the  institution. 
It  excited  much  curiosity  in  the  quarter  to  know  the 
occasion  of  this  visit,  which  was  as  follows  :  A  woman 
had  an  only  daughter  who  had  taken  the  veil  in  that 
convent.  Left  a  widow,  she  came  often  to  the  insti- 
tution, and  with  a  mother's  tears  besought  that  she 
might  be  allowed,  if  not  to  see,  at  least  to  hear  the 
voice  of  her  daughter.  What  request  more  just  and 
more  sacred  from  a  mother?  But  what  is  there  of 
sacredness  and  justice  that  fanaticism  does  not  cor- 
rupt? The  daughter  sent  word  by  the  confessor  to 
her  mother  that  if  she  did  not  cease  to  importune  her, 
she  would  refuse  to  speak  to  her  even  on  the  day 
when  she  would  be  allowed  to  do  so.  That  day  at 
length  arrived;  the  widowed  mother  was  the  first  to 
present  herself  at  the  door  of  the  convent,  and  she 
was  told  that  she  could  not  see  her  daughter.  In  de- 
spair, she  asked  Why  ?  No  answer.  Was  she  sick  ? 
No  reply.  Was  she  dead  ?  Not  a  word.  The  mis- 
erable mother  conjectured  that  her  daughter  was  dead. 
She  ran  to  the  Superiors  to  obtain  at  least  the  privilege 
of  seeing  her  corpse,  but  their  hearts  were  of  iron. 
She  went  to  the  Pope :  a  mother's  tears  touched  the 
breast  of  Leo  XII.,  and  he  promised  her  that  on  the 
following  morning  he  would  be  at  the  convent  and  as- 
certain the  fact.  He  did  so,  as  I  have  said,  unex- 
pectedly to  all.  Those  doors,  which  were  accustomed 
to  open  only  for  the  admittance  of  a  fresh  victim,  open- 
ed that  day  to  the  head  of  the  Church  of  Eome.  See- 
ing the  wretched  mt^ther  who  was  the  occasion  of  this 


LETTER  FROM  DR.  DE  SANCTIS.       315 

visit,  he  called  Ler  to  liim,  and  ordered  her  to  follow 
him  into  the  nunnery.  The  daughter,  who,  by  an  ex- 
cess of  barbarous  fanaticism,  thought  to  please  Heav- 
en by  a  violation  of  the  holiest  laws  of  nature,  con- 
cealed herself  upon  hearing  that  her  mother  had,  enter- 
ed the  convent.  The  Pope  called  together  in  a  hall 
the  entire  sisterhood,  and  commanded  them  to  lift  the 
veils  from  their  faces.  The  mother's  heart  throbbed 
with  vehemence ;  she  looked  anxiously  from  face  to 
face  once  and  again,  but  her  daughter  was  not  there. 
She  believed  now  that  she  was  dead,  and,  with  a  pierc- 
ing cry,  fell  down  in  a  swoon.  While  she  was  reviv- 
ing, the  Pope  peremptorily  asked  the  Mother  Superior 
whether  the  daughter  was  dead  or  alive.  She  replied, 
at  length,  that  she  was  yet  living,  but  having  vowed 
to  God  that  she  would  eradicate  every  carnal  affection 
from  her  breast,  she  was  unwilling  even  to  see  her 
mother  again.  It  was  not  until  the  Pope  ordered  her 
appearance,  in  virtue  of  the  obedience  due  to  him,  and 
upon  pain  of  mortal  sin,  that  the  nun  came  forth.  This 
outrage  upon  human  nature,  which  might  have  result- 
ed in  parricide,  is  denominated  in  the  vocabulary  of 
monasticism  '-virtue  in  heroic  degree."* 

"Besides  the  convent  of  the  'Vive  Sejyolte'  there 
are  at  Eome  other  institutions  of  a  similar  cast ;  for 
example,  that  of  the  Capuchin  nuns  of  San  Urbano, 
those  of  JMonte  Cavallo,  the  Tercsians  of  San  Giuseppe 
a  Capo  le  case,  those  of  San  Eligio  in  Trastevere,  and 
so  forth.  Numbers  of  these  poor  ^^Tetches  every  year 
commit  suicide  through  a  false  Spirit  of  penitence. 
They  go  witliout  necessary  food ;  they  wear  haircloth 
when  nature  demands  restoratives ;  they  refuse  them- 


316  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

selves  remedies  which  would  arrest  disease,  and  this 
from  a  false  modesty  which  forbids  the  communicating 
of  their  ailments  to  the  physician.  Many  have  I 
known  to  die  of  such  procedure.  You  will  call  these 
nuns  poor  victims  of  delusion  ;  the  world  will  call 
them  mad ;  but,  in  the  dictionary  of  the  convent,  they 
are  termed  *  holy  martyrs  of  sacred  modesty,'' 

"I  will  not  relate  to  you  all  the  minutiae  of  the  con- 
vent life ;  it  would  take  a  volume  instead  of  a  letter 
to  do  so.  Imagine  what  must  be  an  establishment 
where  fifty  or  sixty  women  live,  as  it  were,  in  a  pris- 
on— women  brought  together  without  knowledge  of 
one  another,  gnawing  the  curb  of  an  imprisonment 
which  they  affect  to  make  appear  voluntary,  and  which 
they  seek  to  persuade  themselves  is  such — and  you 
will  perceive  what  must  be  the  nature  of  their  life.  *  * 
*  *  Suicide  by  means  of  the  rope  or  poison  is  not  a 
very  frequent  occurrence  in  nunneries  at  Eome,  but  a 
species  of  suicide  little  known  to  the  world  is  most  fre- 
quent there  :  I  mean  that  which  proceeds  from  impru- 
dent penances,  the  injurious  repression  of  innocent  af- 
fections, the  persistent  effort  to  contradict  and  thwart 
nature  in  every  possible  mode,  the  refusal,  from  false 
modesty,  to  make  known,  for  medical  advice,  whatever 
maladies  may  occur— these  and  other  reasons  suffice 
to  account  for  the  fact  that  a  very  considerable  propor- 
tion of  nuns  perish  in  youth,  and  so  many  others  drag 
through  years  an  existence  of  continued  ailments  and 
infirmities.  *  *  * 


LETTER   FROM   DR.  DE    SANCTIS.  317 

THE   NUNS   AND   THEIR   CONFESSORS. 

"  There  are  other  convents  of '  contemplative  life' — 
such  is  the  appellation  given  to  those  where  thie  prin- 
cipal occupation  is  or  ought  to  be  prayer — in  which 
matters  proceed  quite  differently  from  the  '  Vive  Se- 
polte.'  xit  such  institutions  you  would  see,  from  ea,rly 
in  the  morning  till  evening,  a  string  of  j)riests  and 
monks  going  and  coming  ;  these  are  the  confessors  of 
the  nuns.  To  enable  you  to  understand  this  more 
clearly,  let  me  say  that  for  each  convent  there  is  a 
confessor,  so  called.  This  confessor  is  a  priest,  ap- 
pointed by  the  bishop  and  supported  by  the  nunnery, 
who  must  always  be  at  the  convent  for  the  '  spiritual 
direction'  of  its  inmates.  He  is  the  pastor  of  the  com- 
munity, and  all  ought,  according  to  rule,  to  confess  to 
him.  But  it  is  not  the  practice  of  nuns  to  confess  to 
the  ordinary  confessor.  Each  one  has  her  own  in  par- 
ticular, and  some  have  two  or  three ;  but  these  partic- 
ular confessors  can  not  be  called  by  that  name ;  they 
are  termed  '  directors.'  Each  '  director,'  as  he  reaches 
the  institution,  is  received  by  his  nun,  who,  if  it  be  in 
the  morning,  regales  him  with  a  cup  of  excellent  choc- 
olate, or,  after  dinner,  with  refreshments,  of  which 
sweetmeats  always  form  a  part.  While  this  holy  di- 
rector is  eating,  his  nun  converses  with  him ;  ordina- 
rily the  interview  lasts  about  half  an  hour ;  then  they 
go  and  shut  themselves  up  in  a  confessional,  where 
they  remain  at  least  an  hour.  This  occurs  at  least 
twice  a  week,  and  often  every  day.  The  conversation 
is  commonly  any  thing  but  religious  ;  it  is  apt  to  con- 
sist chiefly  of  small-talk  and  scandal.  *  *  * 


318  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

EDUCATION   AT    CONVENTS. 

"  I  have  promised  to  speak  of  those  convents  which 
are  devoted  to  education  and  instruction.  Nearly  all 
the  nunneries  contain  some  young  persons  who  are  in 
process  of  education,  and  are  supported  there  by  their 
relatives  for  this  purpose;  but  there  are  convents 
which  have  for  their  principal  scope  the  instruction  of 
youth.  For  these  institutions  the  description  I  have 
given  of  the  others  will,  in  general,  answer  to  the 
truth ;  but  it  must  be  added  that  the  young  persons 
receiving  their  education  at  the  convent  do  not  know 
all  that  takes  place  in  the  establishment.  They  live 
in  a  particular  portion  of  it,  separate  from  the  greater 
part  of  the  nuns,  whom  they  see  only  in  the  choir  and 
at  the  refectory.  They  are  under  the  charge  of  a  nun 
who  superintends  their  education. 

"But  wherein  does  this  education  consist?  Cul- 
ture of  intellect  they  can  not  derive  from  the  reading 
of  ascetic  books,  legendaries,  lives  of  the  saints,  and 
particularly  from  those  works  w^hich  speak  of  the  fe- 
licities of  the  monastic  life  and  the  horrors  of  the  world. 
In  their  tender  minds  this  is  the  cardinal  idea  incul- 
cated, that  outside  of  the  cloister  it  is  almost  impossi- 
ble to  find  salvation.  All  books  save  those  that  speak 
of  these  things  are  absolutely  prohibited.  Hence  ge- 
ography, history,  and  all  other  branches  of  useful  and 
necessary  knowledge  are  completely  banished  from 
these  places  as  worldly  studies. 

^^The  culture  of  the  heart  is  shockingly  profaned. 
Ignoring  the  life  of  the  family,  they  learn  to  detest  it. 
With  the  pretext  that  every  human  relation  is  profane, 


LETTER  FEOM  DE.  DE  SANCTIS.       319 

they  alienate  themselves,  under  the  garb  of  sanctity, 
from  parental  love.  They  love  none  but  those  whom 
they  believe  to  stand  in  the  place  of  God — the  confess- 
or foremost  of  all,  and  then  the  mother  mistress. 
Should  one  of  these  young  persons  leave  the  convent 
and  marry  (I  relate  what  I  have  known  in  many  cases), 
broils  and  strifes  arise  in  the  domestic  circle.  vShe  re- 
fuses to  obey  her  husband  until  the  confessor  has  in- 
structed her  in  matrimonial  duties,  and  has  command- 
ed her  to  obey.  Is  this  always  innocence  ?  I  an- 
swer. Wo, 

"  For  a  young  girl  educated  in  a  convent  to  be  a 
good  wife  and  a  good  mother  is  a  thing  most  rare. 
At  Rome  it  is  a  common  saying,  '  Do  you  want  a  faith- 
less woman  ?  ]\Iarry  a  ghl  brought  up  at  a  nunnery.' 
This  rule  has  its  exceptions,  but  be  assured  they  are 
exceptions  ;  fifteen  years  of  experience  at  the  confes- 
sional have  taught  me  this.  Such  a  person  can  not 
be  a  good  mother,  because,  not  educated  in  the  fam- 
ily, she  knows  nothing  of  domestic  life.  She  can  not 
be  a  good  housekeeper,  because  the  superintendence 
of  a  household  is  something  to  her  quite  new.  Few 
are  the  husbands  who  have  not  speedy  cause  to  repent 
of  marrying  a  young  girl  just  out  of  the  convent. 
With  regard  to  work,  the  nuns  teach  only  how  to  em- 
broider church  cloths. 

"  There  is  some  difference,  however,  in  the  case  of 
those  convents  which  are  destined  more  particularly 
for  the  education  of  the  young.  Of  this  nature  there 
are  at  Rome  the  nunnery  of  '  Torre  di  Specchi,'  for 
the  high  aristocracy  ;  that  of  the  '  Sacred  Heart,'  em- 
bracing all  classes  of  persons  ;  and  that  of  the  '  Ursu- 


320  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

lines,'  for  the  middle  class.  *  *  *  At  the  '  Sacred 
Heart,'  the  instruction  given  is  certainly  Letter  than 
at  other  convents ;  but  let  us  examine  its  character. 
Geography  is  taught ;  it  may,  however,  be  denomi- 
nated geography  applied  to  Jesuitism.  Eespecting  ev- 
ery country  and  kingdom  described,  it  is  explained 
whether  there  be  Jesuits  in  it,  how  much  good  they 
have  done  if  there,  how  much  evil  has  resulted  if  they 
have  been  driven  away.  History  is  taught ;  with  the 
sole  design,  however,  of  convincing  that  Popery  and 
Jesuitism  are  the  only  source  of  all  good,  and  that 
where  these  have  not  been  found,  every  crime  and  hor- 
ror has  thriven.  Thus  the  young  mind  is  so  thorough- 
ly imbued  with  prejudice,  that  it  shudders  at  the  bare 
mention  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  Cromwell,  or  Washing- 
ton. *  *  *  The  religious  instruction  consists  of  weak 
superstitions.  She  who  can  best  adorn  the  image  of 
her  favorite  samt,  whom  she  changes  every  month,  is 
the  most  devout. 

NATUEAL   AFFECTIONS    DESTROYED. 

"  That,  however,  which  constitutes  the  chief  object 
of  instruction,  and  wherein  the  nuns  wonderfully  suc- 
ceed, is  the  eradication  of  filial  love  and  respect,  to  be 
supplanted  by  a  blind  obedience  to  the  priests.  And 
thus  it  is  that  they  proceed.  Two  principal  motives 
are  brought  into  play  for  this  purpose — pride  and  re- 
ligion. They  begin  by  exalting  the  freedom  of  the  in- 
dividual. They  say  that  it  is  a  gift  of  God,  and  we 
must  not  suffer  it  to  be  taken  away.  A  doctrine  most 
true ;  but  listen  to  the  application.  The  parents  of 
the  young  girl  propose  to  lier,  for  instance,  a  match. 


LETTER   FROM   DR.  DE   SANCTIS.  321 

it  may  be  most  desirable.  The  young  girl  has  been 
taught  to  look  upon  this  proposal  as  an  attempt  upon 
her  individual  liberty,  and  she  accordingly  declines. 
Her  parents  endeavor  to  persuade  her ;  they  urge  that 
they  do  not  wish  to  compel  her  assent,  but  only  rec- 
ommend what  seems  for  the  best.  She,  however,  has 
learned  from  the  nuns  a  quantity  of  stories  about 
young  people  who  have  been  rendered  miserable  by 
acceding  to  the  will  of  their  parents,  and  she  persists 
in  her  refusah  The  parents  then  are  obliged  to  go  to 
the  confessor^  and  obtain  of  him  that  he  will  persuade 
the  young  girl.  The  confessor  gathers  information  re- 
specting the  person  in  question,  and  if  the  match  suit 
the  Jesuits,  the  young  girl  will  be  persuaded,  other- 
wise her  disinclination  will  increase.  vSay  what  you 
will  of  the  father  and  mother  being  her  best  friends, 
the  most  deserving  of  confidence — domestic  life  has 
become  extinguished  in  the  convent ;  for  its  inmate 
there  is  no  father  bu.t  the  confessor,  no  mother  but  the 
'mistress  mother.' 

"  But,  beside  this  motive  of  self-will,  that  of  relio-- 
ion  is  brought  in  to  set  aside  the  parental  right.  This 
seems  incredible ;  it  is  nevertheless  a  fact.  The  fa- 
vorite principle  that  constitutes  the  theme  of  the  ex- 
hortations of  the  '  mistress  mother'  is  the  explanation 
— I  should  say,  rather,  the  infamous  perversion,  of  a 
passage  in  the  Gospel,  '  He  that  loveth  father  or  moth- 
er more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me.'  From  this 
text  they  inculcate  upon  these  youthful  minds  that 
when  they  feel  themselves  inspired  to  do  or  not  to  do 
any  thing,  they  are  not  to  listen  to  their  parents,  who 
may  command  or  counsel  them  against  that  inspira- 
0  2 


322  MISS  bunklet's  book. 

tion,  otherwise  they  would  love  father  or  mother  more 
than  Jesus  Christ,  and  render  themselves  unworthy 
of  him.  Then,  to  assure  themselves  of  such  inspira- 
tion, there  is  but  one  method — to  consult  the  confess- 
or. The  confessor,  being  consulted,  replies  that  first 
of  all  it  is  requisite  to  spend  some  time  in  prayer ;  lie 
therefore  prescribes  a  '  noveiicC  [nine  days'  devotion] 
to  the  '  Sacred  Heart,'  or  to  some  favorite  saint;  mean- 
while he  ascertains  the  facts  of  the  case.  If  the  re- 
sult of  this  inquiry  be  favorable,  and  the  young  girl 
feels  herself  inspired  to  say  JSfo,  then  he  shows  her 
that  the  inspiration  is  a  temptation  which  must  be 
withstood.  If  his  decision  be  negative,  then  the  opin- 
ion of  the  confessor,  harmonizing  with  the  no  of  the 
young  girl,  proves  it  to  be  a  real  inspiration  from  God. 
The  whole  family  may  go  to  ruin,  it  matters  not,  be- 
cause '  he  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me, 
is  not  worthy  of  me.' 

"  With  such  principles  as  these,  a  young  person  ed- 
ucated at  a  convent  becomes  a  bhnd  instrument  in  the 
hands  of  the  Jesuits.  Imagine  how  good  a  daughter, 
wife,  and  mother  she  will  prove. 

"  I  have  thus  given  you,  dear  sir,  a  rapid  sketch  of 
the  nunneries  of  Rome.  I  can  assure  you  that  I  have 
stated  only  what  I  have  seen  and  known  from  close 
observation,  to  the  truth  of  which  I  pledge  myself. 
Believe  me  your  devoted  servant  and  brotlier  in  Jesus 
Christ,  L.  De  Sanctis,  D.D., 

"  Minister  of  the  Holy  Gospel. 

"London-,  Sept.  20th,  1855;' 


REFORMATION   OF   CONVENTS.  323 

VIII.    REFORIVIATION    OF    CONVENTS. 

If  the  testimony  of  individual  witnesses,  well  au- 
thenticated, be  yet  deemed  insufficient  in  proof  of  the 
abuses  incidental  to  monasticism,  we  have  only  to  con- 
clude with  a  brief  review  of  the  legislation  that  has 
been  found  necessary,  at  almost  every  period  of  eccle- 
siastical history,  for  the  redress  of  evils  that  have  be- 
come too  flagrant  to  be  concealed. 

Whether  by  individuals  high  in  office  in  the  Church 
of  Rome,  or  through  the  interference  of  civil  rulers, 
there  have  been  attempted  numerous  reforms  of  the 
monastic  orders  and  checks  upon  the  excessive  corrup- 
tion into  which  the  ascetic  system  has  always  shown 
an  inherent  proneness  to  run. 

History  tells  us  that  in  the  Middle  Ages  luxury 
and  vice  grew  to  such  a  pitch  tliat  new  rules  were  at 
various  epochs  introduced,  for  the  express  purpose  of 
restoring  a  discipline  which  had  given  way  to  eveiy 
imaginable  irregularity.  With  this  view,  the  monas- 
tery of  Clugny,  in  Burgundy,  was  founded  in  910, 
and  a  considerable  number  of  monasteries  in  Spain, 
Italy,  and  Germany  were  reformed  on  the  same  model, 
while  other  institutions  were  based  upon  new  schemes 
aad  stricter  regulations.  These,  in  turn,  acquiring  by 
their  special  repute  for  sanctity  fresh  influence  and 
wealth,  became  proud  and  luxurious,  and  demanded, 
by  their  mutual  dissensions  and  jealousies,  the  fre- 
quent interposition  of  successive  popes.  When  the 
sixteenth  century  dawned,  the  condition  of  these  or- 
ders, for  the  most  part,  was  not  less  debased  than 
iu  the  darkest  age  preceding.     The  enormities  devel- 


324  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

oped  by  the  liglit  of  tlie  Keformation  in  connection 
with  the  monasteries  of  Germany,  Scotland,  and  Italy, 
disgusted  all  enlightened  men  with  the  entire  system, 
and  amply  justified  its  abolishment  in  Protestant  coun- 
tries. 

It  was  not  in  these  alone,  however,  that  the  urgency 
of  reform  in  the  monastic  organizations  became  obvi- 
ous with  the  spread  of  intelligence  and  cultivation 
throughout  the  countries  of  Europe.  Statesmen  of 
Roman  Catholic  governments  became  convinced  that 
insufferable  injuries  to  the  welfare  of  nations  were  nec- 
essarily connected  with  the  unrepressed  growth  of  the 
so-called  "religious"  orders.  The  effect  of  this  sys- 
tem upon  the  increase  of  population,  by  the  encour- 
agement held  out  to  celibacy  ;  upon  general  industry, 
by  the  unproductive  idleness  of  those  who  thus  lived 
on  the  earnings  of  others  ;  upon  the  general  thrift  and 
wealth,  by  their  incessant  grasping  at  the  estates  of 
the  rich ;  and  upon  public  morals,  by  the  crimes  noto- 
riously committed  within  their  walls — all  this  was  ap- 
parent to  the  Roman  Catholic  legislators  of  the  eight- 
eenth century.  In  1781,  the  houses  of  some  monas- 
tic orders  were  wholly  abolished  by  Joseph  II.  of  Aus- 
tria ;  and  those  which  he  suffered  to  remain  were  lim- 
ited to  a  certain  number  of  inmates,  and  cut  off  from 
all  communication  with  any  foreign  authority.*  In 
1790,  the  abolition  of  all  religious  orders  was  decreed 
in  France,  and  the  example  was  soon  followed  by  the 

*  To  the  disgrace  of  modern  civilization,  a  concordat  has  just  been 
effected  [in  the  autumn  of  1855]  between  Austria  and  the  Pope,  by 
which  the  restoration  of  all  these  monastic  establishments  is  author- 
ized, and  the  control  of  education  committed  to  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits. 


REFOEMATION  OF  CONVENTS.        325 

majority  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  states  of  Europe.  In 
our  own  day,  tlie  republics  of  South  America  have  fol- 
lowed in  this  career  of  reform  ;  and  still  later,  Sardinia 
and  Spain  have  enacted  laws  for  the  suppression  of 
monasteries.  In  the  former  kingdom  there  were  near- 
ly four  hundred  of  these  haunts  of  idleness,  containing 
some  forty  thousand  monks  and  nuns,  and  holding 
more  than  one  half  of  the  real  estate  of  the  realm, 
exempt  from  taxation  I  The  perseverance  of  the  gov- 
ernment in  effecting  this  reform  has  brought  upon  it 
the  impotent  threat  of  excommunication  from  the  Pope. 
In  Spain,  the  Cortes  have  passed,  by  large  majorities, 
a  bill  for  the  sale  of  a  considerable  amount  of  ecclesi- 
astical property. 

We  have  room  only  to  signalize,  in  passing,  some 
of  the  developments  of  vice  and  crime  made  in  the 
course  of  these  various  attempts  to  redress  a  system 
of  innate  corruption  and  propensity  to  perpetual  dete- 
rioration. To  go  back  no  farther  than  1489,  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  YII.  of  England,  a  bull  was  issued  by 
Pope  Innocent  VIII.  for  the  "  reformation  of  monas- 
teries." In  this  decree  the  pontiff  states  that  he  has 
heard  with  deep  displeasure  that  many  monasteries  in 
England  have  relapsed  from  their  rules,  and  that  many 
of  their  inmates,  having  put  away  from  themselves  the 
fear  of  God,  and  given  themselves  up  to  a  reprobate 
mind,  lead  a  lascivious  and  too  dissolute  life.  The 
facts  by  which  this  declaration  is  corroborated  in  the 
history  of  English  monasteries  and  nunneries  are  too 
revolting  for  reproduction  in  our  pages.  The  enor- 
mous vices  that  led  to  the  visitation  and  suppression 
of  these   establishments   in   the  succeeding  reign  of 


326  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

Henry  YIII.  are  well  known.  With  regard  to  Ger- 
many and  France  in  the  preceding  period,  repeated 
bulls  of  popes  and  decrees  of  councils  have  stereotyped 
the  evidence  of  the  fact  of  a  total  and  general  deprava- 
tion of  morals  in  the  conventual  houses  of  men  and 
women  throughout  those  countries. 

As  late  as  the  close  of  the  past  century,  an  Italian 
prelate,  Scipione  de  Ricci,  bishop  of  Pistoja  and  Prato, 
undertook  the  reform  of  certain  flagrant  disorders  ex- 
isting in  his  own  diocese.  For  years  this  excellent 
man  labored  to  accomplish  the  work  of  expurgation. 
The  irregularities  of  life  which  he  has  depicted  in  his 
memoirs  as  of  common  occurrence  among  the  Domini- 
can nuns  of  Tuscany  are  positively  frightful.  Crimes 
unexampled  and  unheard  of  were  rife  within  those  se- 
cret inclosures.  The  access  and  intercourse  of  the 
monks  of  the  corresponding  order  was  attended  with 
every  variety  of  immoral  behavior.  But  these  evils 
were  not  of  a  day's  growth.  As  far  back  as  1642, 
petitions  were  on  record,  addressed  to  the  then  Grand 
Duke,  and  signed  by  the  representatives  of  the  people 
of  Pistoja,  asking  for  a  prompt  remedy  of  the  outrages 
upon  decency  and  religion  notoriously  committed  at 
these  institutions.  These  repeated  records,  says  Ric- 
ci,  "showed  that  the  spiritual  ruin  was  beyond  de- 
scription, arising  from  the  familiarity  which  existed 
between  the  monks  and  the  nuns,  and  from  the  facil- 
ity of  ingress  to  the  convents  which  the  monks  enjoy- 
ed.'^    They  ate  and  drank  with  those  who  were  their 

*  The  reader  may  for  himself  compare  these  statements,  and  those 
of  Dr.  De  Sanctis  to  the  same  effect,  with  the  intimations  contained  in 
Chapter  XXVIII.  of  the  preceding  narrative.     Reason  and  reflection, 


REFORMATION  OF  CONVENTS.        327 

favorites  and  the  most  devoted  to  tliem,  remaining 
with  them  tete-a-tete  in  some  cell,  and  even  sleeping 

however  involuntarily,  can  not  but  pause  at  this  singular  adaptation 
and  correspondence  of  male  and  female  orders  in  the  monastic  scheme. 
The  shop-keepers  at  Rome  have  for  sale  a  "  panorama"  of  the  various 
fraternities  existing  in  that  city.  In  these  colored  prints  there  will  be 
seen,  on  opposite  pages,  in  their  correlative  garb,  the  "  Olivetani" 
Monks  and  "  Ohvetane"  Nuns  ;  the  "  Agostiniani"  and  the  "  Penitenti 
di  S.  Agostino  ;"  the  '•  Domenicani"  and  the  "  Monache  di  S.  Domen- 
ico  ;"  the  "  Carmelitani"  and  the  "  Carmelitane  ;"  the  Capuchins,  Car- 
thusians, Franciscans,  Trinitarians,  etc.,  etc.,  male  and  female,  each 
confronting  the  other  in  good  fellowship  and  loving  recognition,  like 
lawful  man  and  wife  in  decent  Christian  wedlock.  It  is  a  general  ar- 
rangement of  Romanism,  and  apparently  not  without  some  significance 
and  propriety,  to  establish  in  contiguous  positions  the  male  and  female 
institutions  of  those  particular  orders,  who  observe  the  same  "  rule," 
and  derive  their  sanction  from  the  same  founder.  Thus  we  have  the  in- 
stitutions of  the  Lazarists  and  Sisters  of  Charity  both  at  Emmettsburg, 
Maryland.  The  brethren  are  the  confessors  of  the  sisterhood.  They 
have  the  same  official  head,  and  are  regulated  by  the  same  system. 
"  T^e  Superior-General  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Mission,  or  Laza- 
rists, is  ex  officio  Superior-General  of  the  Daughters  of  Charity ;  and 
hence  their  direction  is  confided,  when  practicable,  to  a  clergyman  who  is 
a  Lazarist."  These  words  are  not  an  inference  of  our  own,  but  the 
statement  of  the  Rev.  Charles  I.  White,  D.D.,  in  his  "Life  of  Mrs. 
Seton,  Foundress  and  first  Superior  of  the  Sisters  or  Daughters  of 
Charity  in  the  United  States  of  America,"  published  by  Dunigan  & 
Brother,  New  York,  1853  ;  page  464,  note.  Now  all  this  would  be 
well  enough,  and  perfectly  unexceptionable  and  praiseworthy,  if  it  had 
but  the  sanction  of  God's  ordinance  instituted  expressly  for  the  conse- 
crating of  this  sort  of  relationship  and  mutuality  of  rule  and  life.  Then 
it  would  be  legal — then  it  would  be  holy  ;  for  "  marriage  is  honorable 
in  all,  but'' — "God  will  judge." 

Nor  let  it  be  said  that  we  are  conjecturing  where  there  is  neither  fact 
nor  probability  to  support.  Of  the  facts,  as  already  in  some  small  part 
specified,  and  elsewhere  accessible  in  detail,  the  reader  is  competent  to 
judge.  Of  the  prob.vbilities,  hear  the  acknowledgments  of  the  dis- 
tinguished Roman  Cathohc  historian,  Dr.  Lingard  : 

"  This  scheme  of  monastic  polity,"  says  he,  "  singular  as  it  may  now 
appear,  was  once  adopted  in  most  Catholic  countries.     Its  origin  may 


328 

in  the  convent,  in  a  room,  indeed,  set  apart,  "but  still 
within  the  cloisters."  Addressing  a  cardinal,  Eicci 
says  farther:  "In  writing  to  the  Pope,  I  would  not 
enter  into  infamous  details  which  would  horrify  you. 
Yet  what  have  not  these  wretched  Dominican  monks 
Tbeen  guilty  of?  Provincials,  priors,  all  alike,  instead 
of  remedying  the  disorders  committed  by  the  confess- 
ors, have  either  allowed  or  else  themselves  committed 
the  same  iniquities." 

It  must  he  added  that  all  Eicci's  efforts  to  reform 
the  convents  of  Tuscany  were  vain.  Upheld  by  his 
enlightened  sovereign,  he  was  thwarted  by  all  around 
him ;  and  when  that  prince  was  called  from  the  ducal 

be  ascribed  to  the  severitj^  with  which  the  founders  of  rehgious  orders 
have  always  prohibited  eviery  species  of  unnecessary  intercourse  be- 
tween their  female  disciples  and  persons  of  the  other  sex.  To  prevent 
it  entirely  was  impracticable.  The  functions  of  the  sacred  ministers 
had  always  been  the  exclusive  privilege  of  the  men,  and  they  alone 
were  able  to  support  the  fatigues  of  husbandry  and  conduct  the  exten- 
sive estates  which  many  convents  had  received  from  the  piety  of  their 
benefactors.  But  it  was  conceived  that  the  difficulty  might  be  dimin- 
ished, if  it  could  not  be  removed;  and,  with  this  view,  some  monastic 
legislators  devised  the  plan  of  establishing  double  monasteries.  In  the 
vicinity  of  the  edifice  destined  to  receive  the  virgins  who  had  dedicated 
their  chastity  to  God,  was  erected  a  building  for  the  residence  of  a  so- 
ciety of  monks  or  canons,  whose  duty  it  was  to  officiate  at  the  altars 
and  superintend  the  external  economy  of  the  community.  The  morti- 
fied and  religious  life,  to  which  they  had  bound  themselves  by  the  most 
solemn  engagements,  was  supposed  to  render  them  superior  to  tempta- 
tion ;  and,  to  remove  even  the  suspicion  of  evil,  they  were  strictly  for- 
bidden to  enter  the  inclosure  of  the  women  except  on  particular  occa- 
sions, with  the  permission  of  the  Superior,  and  in  the  presence  of  wit- 
nesses. But  the  Abbess  retained  the  supreme  control  over  the  monks 
as  well  as  the  nuns  :  their  Prior  depended  on  her  choice,  and  was 
bound  to  regulate  his  conduct  by  her  instructions." — Angh-Saxon 
Church,  vol.  i.,  p.  173. 


REFORMATION  OF  CONVEXTS.         329 

throne  of  Tuscany  to  tlic  imperial  throne  of  Austria, 
Eicci  was  left  helpless  among  his  enemies.  He  was 
forced  to  abdicate  his  see,  and,  after  enduring  much 
persecution  and  imprisonment,  he  ended  by  abjectly 
humbling  himself  before  the  Pope,  and  signing  a  full 
recantation  drawn  up  for  him  at  Eome.* 

One  addition  to  this  painful  recital,  and  we  close. 
In  our  o^yn  times,  within  a  year  past,  a  revelation  of 
monastic  enormities  such  as  must  sicken  the  very 
heart,  has  been  laid  open  to  the  world.  We  have  be- 
fore us  "The  Petition  of  Ubaldus  Borzinsky,  of  the 
Order  of  the  Brothers  of  Mercy,  to  Pope  Pius  IX." 
It  has  just  been  made  public.  The  monastery  to 
which  Ubaldus  Borzinsky  belongs  is  at  Prague,  in  Bo- 
hemia. In  thirty-seven  distinct  and  full  specifications, 
Borzinsky  exposes  a  catalogue  of  crimes  of  the  deep- 
est dye,  committed  to  his  knowledge  and  that  of  the 
other  monks  in  various  monasteries  of  the  Brothers  of 
Mercy  in  Austria.  The  petition  commences  as  fol- 
lows : 

"Holy  Father, — As  nothing  we  undertake  can 
prove  successful  without  the  assistance  of  the  Most 
High,  I  therefore  earnestly  implore  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  communicate  his  enlightening  influence  and  gra- 
cious aid  in  the  matter  I  now  lay  before  you,  which 
also  involves  an  humble  request. 

"  The  task  I  have  proposed  to  myself  is  far  from 
being  a  pleasant  one,  as  it  only  exhibits  painful  events, 
and  is  calculated  to  av/aken  very  distressing  feelings 

*  Nuns  and  Nunneries  ;  Sketches  compiled  entirely  from  Romish 
authorities.     London,  1852.     Pages  242-373. 


330 

in  the  mind  of  your  Holiness.  But  it  is  necessary, 
in  order  that  I  may  have  peace  in  my  own  mind, 
through  the  favor  and  grace  of  your  Holiness,  that  I 
should  bring  both  to  your  consideration.  I  have  also 
thought  of  the  maxim,  '-  De^  grandi  e  de^  morti^jparla 
bene  o  tad  [Of  the  great  and  of  the  dead,  speak  good 
or  else  be  silent] ;  but  mindful,  Holy  Father,  that 
truth  should  not  be  concealed  when  we  would  appeal 
to  so  august  and  holy  a  tribunal  as  yours,  I  com- 
mence under  the  help  of  the  Most  High." 

Borzinsky  then  proceeds  to  narrate  the  gross  im- 
moralities of  Vitus  Hreschich,  Prior  of  the  Brothers 
of  ]\Iercy  in  the  monastery  of  Presburg,  in  Hungary, 
and  also  those  of  the  Prior  Sanctus  JMartens.  The 
former  of  these  became  provincial  of  the  order,  and 
then  sold  his  priorship  to  the  highest  bidder.  He  was 
succeeded  in  1853  by  Odilo  Eayth,  a  man  of  notori- 
ous dissoluteness.  Next  follow  statements  of  the 
seductions,  adulteries,  and  more  monstrous  and  un- 
natural offenses  of  priors  and  brothers,  in  a  large 
number  of  houses  connected  with  the  order  in  Hun- 
gary, Bohemia,  Moravia,  and  at  Vienna  itself.  Much 
of  this  statement  is  unfit  for  translation.  We  quote 
only  the  concluding  item  of  this  shameful  account. 

"XXXVII.  Paschal  Fiala  was  for  twenty  years 
provincial  of  the  order,  and  acted  as  his  predecessor  did 
and  as  his  successors  have  done,  in  selling  the  prior- 
ates  and  higher  offices  of  the  convents.  *  *  *  This 
Paschal  Fiala  kept  two  ladies  in  Vienna,  the  one 
Madame  von  Ledwinka,  and  the  other  Madame  von 
Sebald,  which  many  of  the  older  brothers  yet  well  re- 
member.    These  females  divided  the  greater  part  of 


EEFORMATION   OF   CONVENTS.  331 

the  sale  of  priorates  and  other  conventual  offices  be- 
tween themselves.  They  lodged  in  the  city  of  Vien- 
na, in  apartments  consisting  of  four  or  five  rooms,  the 
rent  of  which  Avas  500  or  600  florins  per  annum. 
They  kept  two  or  three  servant-maids ;  and  all  this 
expense  was  defrayed  from  the  property  of  the  sick 
poor.  Most  of  the  priors  obtain  wagon-loads  of  farm 
produce,  such  as  butcher's  meat,  butter,  fowls,  corn, 
eggs,  dried  fruits,  and  eimers  of  the  most  exquisite 
wines  for  their  own  tables,  the  property  of  the  poor. 
If  any  right-minded  brother  of  the  order,  whose  heart 
bled  wdien  he  saw  that  the  sick  poor  on  this  account 
were  badly  attended  to,  and  necessarily  deprived  of 
part  of  their  allowance,  dared  to  make  any  remark  re- 
garding the  injustice  of  these  proceedings,  that  man 
was  at  once  marked  for  persecution  and  oppression 
to  the  very  utmost.  *  *  * 

"  Help  me,  therefore,  most  Holy  Father,"  concludes 
Borzinsky,  "if  this  my  most  humble  petition  should 
ever  reach  your  hands.  In  my  soul  I  look  on  the 
matter  I  have  represented — and  I  could  bring  much 
more  before  your  Holiness — with  deep  affliction,  even 
now  in  my  prison-house.  Help  me  out  of  the  order 
altogether,  most  Holy  Father,  and  I  will  pray  for  you 
all  my  life  long.  I  shall  end  my  life  very  unhappily 
unless  you  may  exert  your  great  power  to  deliver  me 
from  the  order  of  which  I  am  a  member. 

"  Your  Holiness  orders  that  our  convents  be  visited, 
that  better  conduct  may  prevail  in  future.  The  old 
forgotten  statutes  of  the  order  are  to  be  restored  to 
their  power,  and  to  be  punctually  observed.  Your 
intentions,  most  Holy  Father,  are  the  best ;  but  here, 


332 

however,  there  will  he  no  improvement ;  for  even 
those  who  ohserve  not  the  new  rules,  nevertheless 
promise  to  do  all  which  you,  most  Holy  Father,  would 
have  them  to  observe.  *  *  * 

"I  most  respectfully  kiss  your  Holiness's  apostolic 
feet,  and  beg  you  graciously  to  regard  the  petition, 
which  I,  with  child-like  and  profound  veneration,  pre- 
sent to  the  notice  of  your  Holiness. 

"(Signed),  Ubaldus  Boezinsky, 

"/?i  the  monastery  of  the  Brothers  of  Mercy  at 
Prague, 
"  Prague,  October,  1854." 

How  long,  we  ask,  after  a  perusal  of  this  startling 
document,  will  it  be  before  scenes  like  these  shall  be 
acted  in  our  own  land  V  Romanism  is  advancing  with 
rapid  strides  among  us.  A  throng  of  priest-ruled  em- 
igrants presses  upon  our  shores.  The  institutions  of 
Jesuitism,  wliich  the  old  governments  and  nations  of 
Europe,  even  the  most  absolute  and  the  most  thor- 
ough papal,  have  felt  to  be  an  intolerable  burden  upon 
their  prosperity,  are  already  obtruded  on  our  young 
and  vigorous  state.  Swarms  of  foreign  priests  and 
nuns  are  settling  down  upon  our  soil,  and  seducing  to 
their  prison-houses  the  daughters  of  our  people.  What 
may  be  already  occurring  in  those  secret  places  we  do 
not  know,  nor  can  we  foretell  how  soon  a  shuddering 
public  may  hear  the  voice  of  exposure,  in  recitals  like 
those  just  echoed  from  distant  Austria.  Eome  dreads 
nothing  so  much  as  exposure.  Crime  may  be  borne 
with  so  long  as  it  can  be  hushed;  but  '' scandal" — 
the  disgrace  and  shame  of  notorious  guilt — is  the  ca- 


EEFOEilATION   OF   CONVENTS.  333 

lamif  J  of  all  others  to  be  foreclosed.  In  view  of  such 
a  policy,  we  can  only  prognosticate  results  from  the  ex- 
perience of  the  past.  Shall  we  heed  the  voice  of  warn- 
ing that  comes  to  us  from  thence,  or  shall  we  hasten 
to  add  to  the  record  another  example  of  ruin,  spir- 
itual and  temporal,  from  the  overspreading  blight  of 
priestcraft  and  monasticism  ? 

In  the  name  of  humanity,  we  caU  for  the  imposition 
of  legal  limits  to  the  arbitrary  rule  of  the  convent.    We 
ask  that  liberty  be  proclaimed  to  the  captives  of  a  se- 
vere and  cruel  system.     These  institutions,  existing 
already  among  us,  but  in  glaring  opposition  to  the  fun- 
damental theories  and  principles  of  a  republic ;  these 
institutions,  that  are  but  so  many  organizations  of  des- 
potism transplanted  to  our  soil— we  ask  that  liberty 
of  conscience  and  rights  of  self-control  be  extended  to 
their  unhappy  inmates ;  so  that,  though  there  be  but 
one  among  all  those  victims  of  delusion  that  is  unwill- 
ingly detained,  she  may  be  sent  forth  to  enjoy  the 
common  privileges  of  the  land.     We  ask  that  it  be 
made  by  law  impossible  for  a  system  of  peonage — a 
system  that  involves  the  total  surrender  of  personal 
will,  whether  for  life  or  for  a  stated  term  to  be  formal- 
ly renewed — an  act  as  yet  unlegalized — a  system  of 
moral  suicide  and  civil  death — to  continue  in  force 
among  us.     We  invoke  the  concurrence  of  all,  wheth- 
er Protestants  or  Catholics,  who  hold  dear  the  hered- 
itary rights  of  freemen,  in  petitioning  our  Legislatm'es 
for  the  passage  of  some  provision  whereby  the  doors  of 
closed  convents  and  all  other  institutions  where  vows 
of  absolute  obedience  are  taken,  shall  be  opened  at 
stated  periods  for  the  admittance  of  commissioners, 


334  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

appointed  by  our  legislators  or  judges,  who  shall  per- 
sonally inquire  of  every  individual  whether  she  be 
there  of  her  own  choice  or  by  compulsion.  The  pros- 
ecution of  this  just  demand  is  the  scope  of  our  desires 
in  sending  forth  this  book.  Without  the  sanction  of 
so  worthy  a  purpose,  the  labor  of  its  preparation  would 
be  but  ill  repaid  in  satisfying  popular  inquiry,  however 
natural  and  proper.  That  these  pages  may  arouse 
some  who  read  them  to  vigilance  and  effort  against  the 
plots  of  which  they  reveal  a  part,  is  the  sincere  prayer 
of  the  writer. 


NOTE. 

The  following  description  of  the  institution  at  Em- 
mettsburg  is  taken  from  the  "Life  of  Mrs.  Seton," 
by  the  Reverend  Charles  I.  White,  D.D.,*"  which  pro- 
fesses to  give  an  authentic  sketch  of  the  sisterhood 
from  its  foundation.  It  will  be  read,  we  think,  with 
interest. 

"Although  two  spacious  edifices  had  been  erected 
to  meet  the  wants  of  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood  and  acad- 
emy, the  increasing  prosperity  of  the  institution  ren- 
dered it  necessary  to  provide  additional  room.  For 
this  purpose,  a  large  building,  fifty-seven  by  sixty-nine 
feet,  and  three  stories  high,  was  commenced  in  1841, 
connecting  w^tli  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  academy, 
and  running  at  right  angles  with  it  in  a  southern  di- 
rection. It  is  surmounted  with  a  cupola  and  belvi- 
dere,  which  command  one  of  the  most  extensive  and 
delightful  prospects  that  can  greet  the  eye.  Having 
mentioned  the  different  buildings  appropriated  to  scho- 
lastic purposes,  we  shall  briefly  state  the  particular 
uses  of  each.  The  main  edifice  is  distributed  into 
rooms  for  recitation,  the  cabinet  of  natural  sciences, 
the  library,  dormitories,  etc.,  and  in  the  lowest  story 
are  the  important  aiTangements  of  the  culinary  depart- 

*  Published  by  Dunigan  &  Brother.     New  York,  1853. 


336  MISS  bunkley's  book. 

ment.  Another  building  in  tlie  rear  contains  the  re- 
fectory, infirmary,  bathing  establishment,  and  a  large 
hall  for  drawing,  painting,  and  embroidery.  The  last- 
mentioned  edihce  has  three  grand  divisions  :  a  study- 
room,  a  hall  for  public  exhibitions,  and  one  for  the  ex- 
ercises of  vocal  and  instrumental  music. 

"A  few  years  after  its  erection,  in  1844,  another 
extensive  structure  was  undertaken  for  the  exclusive 
accommodation  of  the  sisters  and  novices,  and  was 
completed  in  little  more  than  twelve  months,  having 
been  occupied  in  September,  1845.  It  stands  east 
and  west,  connecting  the  academy  and  the  chapel,  with 
lateral  projections  to  the  south,  inclosing  on  three  sides 
a  court-yard  seventy  feet  by  forty  in  extent.  The 
new  residence  of  the  sisters  is  two  hundred  and  thir- 
ty-two feet  in  developed  length,  and  forty  in  width, 
with  two  stories  and  a  roomy  attic,  and  is  constructed 
of  brick  and  cut  stone,  colored  of  a  light  slate  or  gray. 
It  is  a^ter  the  conventual  style  of  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  centuries,  with  embattled  parapets ;  high- 
pitched  roof,  with  dormers,  surmounted  by  a  belfry 
thirty  feet  high;  the  windows  of  the  second  story 
square,  with  transom  forming  a  cross  ;  the  lower  win- 
dows mullioned  with  hood-moulds ;  the  lateral  walls 
broken  by  buttresses ;  and  with  porches  to  the  first 
and  second  stories,  running  along  the  north  wall.  The 
building  is  truly  Catholic  in  its  external  appearance. 
....  The  interior  parts  of  the  edifice  are  well  adapted 
to  their  sacred  uses.  The  lower  and  second  stories 
are  severally  fourteen  feet  in  height.  On  the  first  is 
a  cloister,  running  around  the  entire  court-yard  and 
communicating  with  the  chapel,  and  also  the  public 


NOTE.  337 

rooms  for  tlic  use  of  tlic  community,  among  them  the 
Superior's  apartment  and  chapter-room.  The  other 
stories  are  occupied  as  dormitories,  and  for  the  infirm- 
ary, refectory,  and  other  purposes." — P.  455-7. 

The  chapel  of  the  institution,  consecrated  in  1841, 
is  thus  described:   "This  beautiful  church  fronts  the 
western  extremity  of  the  academy,  at  a  distance  of 
about  seventy  feet.     The  style  of  its  architecture  is 
Tuscan.     It  is  a  spacious  building,  one  hundred  and 
twelve  feet  long,  and  ninety-one  "wide,  with  a  lofty 
steeple,  and  embracing  at  the  rear  end  two  wings,  one 
of  which  serves  as  a  vestry-room,  the  other  for  the 
orphans  and  strangers  who  wish  to  attend  the  divine 
service.     The  body  of  the  church  is  reserved  for  the 
sisters  and  the  young  ladies  of  the  academy.     The 
fa9ade  is  very  appropriately  set  off  with  a  finely-sculp- 
tured statue  of  St.  Joseph,  and  bears  a  Latin  inscrip- 
tion, which  states  that  the  edifice,  erected  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  Daughters  of  Charity,  was  dedicated  by 
them  to  the  glory  of  God  in  honor  of  their  chief  pa- 
tron.    As  you  enter  the  front  door,  on  the  left,  is  a 
recess,  containing  an  altar  commemorative  of  the  seven 
dolors  of  the  Yirgin  ]\Iother,  which  are  exhibited  by  a 
well-executed  group  in  composition.     This  group  was 
presented  to  the  chapel  by  a  pious  nobleman  of  France, 
to  obtain  a  share  in  the  rich  blessings  which  God  so 
readily  grants  to  his  cherished  spouses.     In  the  re- 
cess, on  the  right,  is  an  altar  sacred  to  St.  Philomena, 
which  the  piety  of  former  pupils  has  raised  and  dec- 
orated with  costly  gifts In  the  spacious  chancel 

of  the  church  rises  a  marble  altar,  of  the  purest  white, 
and  of  matchless  elegance ;  and,  elevated  high  above 

P 


338 

it,  in  the  niche  of  a  canopy  constructed  of  the  same 
rich  material  as  the  altar,  stands  a  well-sculptured 
image  of  the  blessed  Virgin,  with  the  child  Jesus  in 
her  arms.  Above  the  tabernacle,  on  either  side,  is 
seen  a  cherub  in  the  posture  of  profound  awe  and  ad- 
oration before  the  holy  of  holies.  The  interior  of  the 
chapel  contains,  moreover,  several  paintings  of  merit." 
— P.  450-1.  "The  bell  which  hangs  in  the  steeple 
of  St.  Joseph's  church  is  one  of  the  many  articles  of 
this  description  which  were  brought  to  this  country 
from  Spain  during  the  ascendency  of  Espartero." — 
Note,  p.  519. 


THE    END. 


INSTRUCTION  AND  ENTERTAINMENT 
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from  the  present  a?c  back  to  the  remotest  times.  Thus  the  whole  series  consti- 
tutes a  very  complete  and  valuable  treasury  of  historical  knowledge,  while  yet 
hf  on°  ^"''''.'""'^'^5'"^  as  it  does  of  a  single  distinct  and  entertaining  narrative 
has  all  the  interest,  for  the  reader,  of  a  tale  uaixauve, 


^n^L^  yl    \  "°^^o"l.y  for  family  reading,  but  also  for  district,  town,  school,  and 

The^;oInml^'?'^T''-  ^'  'l'^^  ^"  ^°'"  te-^t-books  in  literary  seminaries.  ' 
.Jr^ZJ^.^^^^^^^'  »^^"^^  h^^'«  l^ad  a  wide  circulation  in  aU  parts  of  the 
The  Dla^rrh.  ^''^  ''^°  ^""^^'^  '^"'^^^"^  ^--^'""^^^  1^^^'i"?  been  already  soS 
hv?he  authors  in  thf'  ^""^  \^^  ""?""'.'  '"  ^^'"^^  '^^  designlias  been  carried  out 
in  all  n^rts  o^th^.n"  f"'^"^^^"  "^  ^'^  have  been  highly  commended  by  the  press 
S  exeninr/!irvT"""^;^"'^«™^"y  individual  parents  have  spoken  of  the  books 
fnVamnn/thJ  l?^  ^^'^''^'"^''^"^^  '"  awakening  a  taste  for  instructive  read- 
Th^    h^  ^    '  chddren,  and  a  love  for  the  acquisition  of  useful  knowledge. 

largL^In^^'^S'Sfl'urnti^rstSe?'"^^'  ^^^^  ^'^  ^^^°°^  '""'^'''^  «^^--^^  °f  ^^^ 

l^SSYS^SSnSSSS.^"^^-^  "  many  difl^rent  f.rnis,  and 


2  INSTRUCTION  AND  ENTERTAINMENT  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

The  Little  Learner,  by  Jacob  Abbott. 

The  "  Little  Learner"  is  a  series  of  juvenile  books  adapted  o  the  earliest  age, 
and  designed  to  assist  in  the  very  first  development  of  the  mind  of  a  child  while  un- 
der its  mother's  special  care  The  series  is  comprised  in  Five  Volumes,  and  is  in- 
tended to  constitute  a  complete  manual  of  instruction  for  the  child  during  the  five 
or  six  first  years  of  life. 

LEARNING  TO  TALK  ;  or,  Entertaining  and  Instructive  Lessons  in  the  use 
of  Language.  Illustrated  with  170  Engravings.  Small  4to,  Muslin,  50  cents. 
This  volume  is  designed  to  assist  the  child  in  its  first  attempt  to  acquire  the 
use  of  language.  It  consists  of  a  great  number  of  beautiful  engravings,  with  sim- 
ple explanations  to  be  read  to  the  child  by  a  parent,  or  older  brother  or  sister, 
with  many  explanations  of  words  and  lessons  in  pronunciation  interposed. 

LEARNING  TO  THINK.     Consisting  of  Easy  and  Entertaining  Lessons,  de- 
signed to  assist  in  the  first  unfolding  of  the  Reflective  and  Reasoning  Powers 
of  Children.     Illustrated  with  120  Engravings.     Small  4to,  Muslin,  50  cents. 
Designed  to  call  out  and  cultivate  the  reflective  and  reasoning  powers  of  tha 
child,  and  to  exercise  and  develop  the  imagination.     It  contains  a  great  number 
of  beautiful  engravings,  accompanied  by  explanations  and  remarks,  and  with  a 
great  number  and  variety  of  questions  to  be  read  by  the  parent  or  teacher,  and 
answered  by  the  child. 

LEARNING  TO  READ.  Consisting  of  Easy  and  Entertaining  Lessons,  de- 
signed to  assist  young  Children  in  studying  the  Forms  of  the  Letters,  and  in 
beginning  to  Read.  Illustrated  with  160  Engravings.  Small  4to,  Muslin,  50 
cents. 

This  volume  is  intended  to  amuse  and  interest  the  child  in  the  work  of  learn- 
ing the  forms  of  the  letters,  and  in  beginning  to  read.  Like  all  the  other  volumes 
of  the  series,  it  is  profusely  illustrated  wih  beautiful  engravings. 

LEARNING  ABOUT  COMMON  THINGS;  or,  Familiar  Instructions  for  Chil- 
dren in  respect  to  the  Objects  around  them,  that  attract  their  Attention,  and 
awaken  their  Curiosity,  in  the  earliest  Years  of  Life.  Illustrated  with  120  En- 
gravings.    Small  4to,  Muslin,  50  cents.     {Shortly.) 

The  object  of  this  volume  is  to  communicate  useful  elementary  instruction  to 
the  child,  in  respect  to  the  various  objects  that  come  within  his  observation,  and 
attract  his  attention  in  the  earliest  years  of  his  life.  It  aims  to  give  a  right  di- 
rection to  his  thoughts  on  these  subjects,  and  to  accustom  him  to  correct  and 
careful  habits,  both  of  observation  and  reflection  in  respect  to  them,  and  to  a  cor- 
rect and  discriminating  use  of  language  in  describing  what  he  sees. 

LEARNING  ABOUT  RIGHT  AND  WRONG.     (Nearhj  ready.) 

This  volume  explains  those  simple  and  universally  admitted  principles  of  moral 
and  religious  duty  which  are  applicable  to  the  conduct  and  character  in  the  earli- 
est years  of  life.  Its  aim  is  to  assist  in  the  development  of  the  dawning  con- 
science of  the  little  learner,  and  cultivate  and  enlighten  his  moral  sense.  The 
principles  are  all  presented  in  a  very  practical  form,  and  are  illustrated  with  a 
great  variety  of  examples  made  real  and  vivid  to  the  child  by  means  of  the  engrav- 
ings. 

Abbott's  Kings  and  Queens. 

Kings  and  Queens;  or,  Life  in  the  Palace.  Consisting  of  Tlistor- 
ical  Sketches  of  Josephine  and  Maria  Louisa,  Louh  Philippe, 
Ferdinand  of  Atistria,  Nicholas,  Isabella  IL,  Leopold,  Victoria, 
and  Louis  Napoleon.  By  Jonx  S.  C.  Abbott.  With  numerous 
Illustrations.     12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00;  Muslin,  gilt  edges,  $1  25. 

Abbott's  Summer  in  Scotland. 

A  Summer  in  Scotland.     By  Jacob  Abbott.     With  Engravings. 

12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

A  pleasant  and  agreeable  record  of  observations  made  during  a  summer's  resi- 
dence and  travelinp  in  the  land  of  Bruce  and  Wallace. 


INSTRUCTION   AND   KNTIiRTAINMENT  FOR  THE   YOUNG.  3 

Harper's  Story  Books. 

A  Montlily  Series  of  Narratives,  Biographies,  and  Tales  for  the 
Instruction  and  Entertainment  of  the  Young.  By  Jacob  Abbott. 
Embellished  with  numerous  and  beautiful  Engravings. 

These  books  are  published  in  monthly  Numbers  of  160  pages, 
small  quarto.  They  are  very  beautifully  illustrated,  and  are 
printed  on  line  calendered  paper. 

The  Series  may  be  obtained  of  Booksellers,  Periodical  Agents, 
and  Postmasters,  or  from  the  Publishers,  at  Three  Dollars  a  Year, 
or  Twenty-five  Cents  a  Number.  Subscriptions  may  commence 
with  any  Number.  The  Postoge  upon  "  Harper's  Story  Books," 
■which  must  be  paid  Quarterly,  in  advance,  is  Two  Cents. 

The  several  Numbers  are  also  bound  separately  in  Muslin,  and 
are  to  be  procured  in  this  form  at  any  Booksellers,  at  Forty  Cents 
per  Volume. 

The  Numbers  are  also  bound  in  Quarterly  Volumes,  Three 
JNumbers  in  a  Volume,  and  are  sold  at  $1  00  per  Volume. 

The  two  Periodicals,  "Plarper's  New  Monthly  Magazine"  and 
"  Harper's  Story  Books,"  will  be  sujjplied  to  Subscribers  at  Five 
Dollars  a  Year,  and  will  be  published  on  the  first  day  of  each 
Month.  ^ 

The  successive  numbers  of  the  Story  Books  present  a  great  variety  of  subjects 
and  of  styles  of  composition,  including  narratives,  dialogues,  descriptive  essays, 
histories,  and  entertaining  stories  of  a  character  to  interest  and  please  the,  youth- 
lul  mind,  and  at  the  same  time  to  impart  information  that  will  be  useful  in  sub- 
sequent life.  Thus  they  combine  the  presentation  of  important  and  interesting 
lacts  with  the  inculcation  of  sound  principles  in  taste,  morals,  and  religion,  and 
thus  form  a  welcome  and  efficient  aid  in  the  work  of  home  education.  Though 
not  intended  to  be  of  exclusively  religious  character,  they  are  so  far  designed  to 
exert  a  moral  and  religious  influence  on  the  minds  of  the  readers  as  to  lead  to 
their  introduction  in  many  instances  to  Sabbath  School  Libraries. 

The  illustrations  of  the  successive  numbers  are  very  numerous,  and  are  exe- 
cuted in  the  highest  style  of  modern  xylography. 

The  following  volumes  are  now  ready: 

Vol.  I.  BRUNO  ;  or,  Lessons  of  Fidelity,  Patience,  and  Self-denial  taught  by 
a  Dog. 

WILLIE  AND  THE  MORTGAGE.  Showing  how  much  may  be  ac- 
complished by  a  boy. 

THE  STRAIT  GATE  ;  or.  The  Rule  of  Exclusion  from  Heaven. 

Vol.  n.  THE  LITTLE  LOUVRE  ;  or.  The  Boys  and  Girls'  Picture  Gallery 
PRANK  ;  or.  The  Philosophy  of  Tricks  and  Mischief. 
EMMA;  or  The  Three  Misfortunes  of  a  Belle. 

Vol.  III.  VIRGINIA  ;  or,  A  Little  Light  on  a  Very  Dark  Saying. 
TIMBOO  AND  JOLIBA  ;  or.  The  Art  of  being  Useful. 
TIMBOO  AND  FANNY  ;  or.  The  Art  of  Self-instruction. 

Vol.  IV.  TILE  HARPER  ESTABLISHMENT  ;   or.  How  the  Story  Books  are 
Made. 
FRANKLIN,  the  Apprentice  Boy. 

THE  STUDIO  ;  or,  Illustrations  of  the  Theory  and  Practice  of  Draw- 
ing, for  Young  Artists  st  Home. 

Vol.  V.  THE  STORY  OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY,  from  the  earliest  Periods 
to  the  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

THE  STORY  OF  ENGLISH  HISTORY,  from  the  earliest  Periods  to 
the  American  Revolution. 

THE  STORY  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY,  from  the  earliest  Settle- 
ment of  the  Country  to  the  Establishment  of  the  Federal  Constitution 

Vol.  VI.  JOHN  TRUE  ;  or.  The  Christian  Experience  of  an  Honest  Boy. 
ELFRED  ;  or,  the  Blind  Boy  and  his  Pictures. 
THE  MUSEUM;  or.  Curiosities  Explained. 


4  INSTRUCTION   AND  ENTERTAINMENT  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

Abbott's  Fraiiconia  Stories. 

Franconia  Stories.  By  Jacob  Abbott.  Beautifully  bound,  en- 
graved Title-pages,  and  numerous  Illustrations.  Complete  in  10 
vols.  IGmo,  Muslin,  50  cents  each.  The  Volumes  may  be  ob- 
tained separately. 

Malleville.  "Wallace.  Mary  Erskine. 

Mary  Bell.  Beechnut.  Rodolphus. 

Ellen  Linn.  Stuyvesant.  Caroline. 

Agnes. 
This  charming  series  of  connected  stories  is  complete  in  ten  volumes.  Each, 
volume  is  an  entirely  distinct  and  independent  work,  having  no  necessary  con- 
nection of  incidents  with  those  that  precede  or  follow  it,  while  yet  the  characters 
of  the  scenes  in  which  the  stories  are  laid  are  substantially  the  same  in  all. 
They  present  peaceful  pictures  of  happy  domestic  life,  and  are  intended  not  chief- 
ly to  amuse  and  cntenain  the  children  who  shall  peruse  them,  but  to  furnish  them 
with  attractive  lessons  of  moral  and  intellectual  instruction,  and  to  train  their 
hearts  to  habits  of  ready  and  cheerful  subordination  to  duty  and  law. 

The  most  attractive  tales  for  children  which  have  been  issued  from  the  press 
for  years. — Cincinnati  Gazette. 

Abbott's  Marco  Paul  Series. 

Marco  Paul's  Voyages  and  Travels  in  the  Pursuit  of  Knowledge. 

By  Jacob  Abbott.     Beautifully  Illustrated.     Complete  in  6  vols. 

16mo,  Mtislin,  60  cents  each.      The  Volumes  may  be  obtained 

separatel}^ 

In  jN'ew  Vork.  In  Vermont. 

On  the  Erie  Canal.  In  Boston. 

In  the  Forests  of  Maine.  At  the  Springfield  Armory. 

The  design  of  these  volumes  is  not  simply  to  present  a  narrative  of  juvenile  ad- 
ventures, but  also  to  communicate,  in  connection  with  them,  a  knowledge  of  the 
geography,  scenery,  and  customs  of  the  sections  of  country  over  Avhich  the  young 
traveler  is  conducted.  Marco  Paul  makes  his  journeyings  under  the  guidance  of 
a  well-informed  tutor,  who  takes  care  to  give  him  all  the  information  of  which 
he  stands  in  need.  The  narrative  is  rendered  still  further  attractive  by  the  in- 
troduction of  personal  incidents  which  would  naturally  befall  the  actors  of  the 
story.  No  American  child  can  read  this  series  without  delight  and  instruction. 
But  it  will  not  be  confined  to  the  juvenile  library.  Presenting  a  vivid  comment- 
ary on  American  society,  manners,  scenery,  and  institutions^  it  has  a  powerful 
charm  for  readers  of  all  ages. 

Abbott's  Young  Ciiristian  Series. 

The  Young  Christian  Series.  By  Jacob  Abbott.  Very  greatly 
Improved  and  Enlarged.  With  numerous  Engravings.  Com- 
plete in  4  vols.  12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00  each.  The  Volumes  may  be 
obtained  separately. 

The  Young  Christian.  The  Way  to  do  Good. 

The  Corner  Stone.  Hoaryhead  and  M'Donner. 

The  present  edition  of  Abbott's  Young  Christian  Series  is  issued  in  a  style  of 
uncommon  neatness,  and  is  illustrated  with  numerous  spirited  and  beautiful  en- 
gravings. It  is  superfluous  to  speak  of  the  rare  merits  of  Abbott's  writings  on  the 
subject  of  practical  religion.  Their  extensive  circulation,  not  only  in  our  ov,-n 
country,  but  in  England,  Scotland,  Ireland,  France,  Germany,  Holland,  India,  and 
at  various  missionary  stations  throughout  the  globe,  evinces  the  excellence  of 
their  plan,  and  the  felicity  with  which  it  has  been  executed.  In  unfolding  the  dif- 
ferent topics  which  he  takes  in  hand,  Mr.  Abbott  reasons  clearly,  concisely,  and 
to  the  point  ;  but  the  severity  of  the  argument  is  always  relieved  by  a  singular 
variety  and  beauty  of  illustration.  It  is  this  admirable  combination  of  discussion 
with  incident  that  invests  his  writings  with  an  almost  equal  charm  for  readers 
of  every  diversity  of  age  and  culture. 


INSTRUCTION  AND  ENTERTAINMENT  FOR  THE  YOUNG.  5 

Abbott's  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 

The  Ilistor}-  of  Napoleon  Bonapai'te.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott- 
With  Maps,  Wood-cuts,  and  Portraits  on  Steel.  2  vols.  8vo, 
Muslin,  85  ;  Sheep,  $5  75  ;  Half  Calf,  $6  ;  Full  Morocco,  $10. 
This  work,  which  attracted  so  much  attention  while  making  its  monthly  ap- 
pearance in  Harper's  Magazine,  is  now  published,  in  two  royal  octavo  volumes 
of  a  little  more  than  GOO  pages  each.  The  volumes  are  elegantly  printed,  neatly 
bound,  and  contain  two  hundred  and  fifty-one  exceedingly  interesting  wood-cuts. 
More  than  thirty  maps,  constructed  expressly  for  the  purpose,  enable  the  reader 
accurately  to  trace  the  movements  of  the  Emperor  through  all  his  wonderful  ca- 
reer. A  steel  engraving,  as  exquisitely  cut  as  any  thing  of  the  kind  which  has 
ever  been  executed  in  this  country,  embellishes  each  of  the  volumes.  One  repre- 
sents Napoleon  a  young  man,  when  in  command  of  the  army  of  Italy.  The  other 
represents  the  Emperor  when  in  the  maturity  of  his  years.  The  accuracy  of  the 
likenesses  may  be  relied  upon.  When  we  consider  the  intrinsic  interest  of  the 
history,  the  richness  and  beauty  of  the  illustrations,  and  the  typographical  ele- 
gance of  the  work,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  two  more  attractive  volumes 
have  never  been  is.sued  from  the  American  press. 

Mr.  Abbott  has  devoted  four  years  of  incessant  labor  to  this  work,  investigating 
all  the  authorities  of  value  in  this  country  and  in  Europe.  He  has  been  enabled 
to  avail  himself  of  the  criticisms  which  the  work  has  elicited.  The  authorities 
are  given  in  reference  to  every  statement  which  an  intelligent  man  might  question. 
The  work  has  been  very  carefully  revised,  considerably  enlarged  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  authorities,  and  is  now  presented  to  the  American  public  as  a  truthful  rec- 
ord of  the  career  of  Napoleon. 

Abbott's  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena ; 

Or,  Interesting  Anecdotes  and  Remarkable  Conversations  of  the 
Emperor  during  the  Five    and   a  Half  Years  of  his  Captivity. 
Collected  from  the  Memorials  of  Las  Casas,  O'Meara,  Montholon, 
Antommarchi,  and  others.     By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.     With  Illus- 
trations.    8vo,  Muslin,  $2  60  ;  Half  Calf,  $3  00. 
"  The  author  of  this  volume  performs  mainly  but  the  unambitious  task  of  com- 
pilation.    He  desires  to  take  the  reader  to  St.  Helena,  and  to  introduce  him  to  the 
humble  apartment  of  the  Emperor.     He  would  give  him  a  seat  in  the  arm-chair, 
by  the  side  of  the  illustrious  suflTerer  reclining  upon  the  sofa,  or  to  lead  him  to  ac- 
company the  Emperor  in  his  walk  among  the  blackened  rocks,  and  thus  to  listen 
to  the  glowing  utterances  of  the  imperial  sage.     The  literature  of  our  language 
affords  no  richer  intellectual  treat  than  the  conversations  of  Napoleon.     Hitherto 
widely  scattered  in  many  volumes,  and  buried  in  the  mist  of  a  multiplicity  of  de- 
tails of  but  transient  interest,  they  have  been  inaccess'ble  to  the  mass  of  readers. 
By  preseniinif  them  in  one  volume,  they  are  within  the  reach  of  all  who  can  ap- 
preciate the  eloquence  of  words  and  of  thought." 

Abbott's  Child  at  Home. 

The  Child  at  Home  ;  or.  The  Principles  of  Filial  Duty  familiarly 
Illustrated.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott,  Author  of  "The  Mother  at 
Home."  Beautifully  embellished  with  Wood-cuts.  16rao,  Mus- 
lin, 60  cents. 

Abbott's  Mother  at  Home. 

The  Mother  at  Home ;  or,  The  Principles  of  Maternal  Duty  fa- 
miliary  Illustrated.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  With  numerous  En- 
gravings.    16mo,  Muslin,  60  cents. 

The  Teacher. 

Moral  Influences  Employed  in  the  Instruction  and  Government 
of  the  Young.  A  New  and  Revised  Edition.  By  Jacob  Abbott. 
With  Engravings.     12mo,  Muslin.  $1  00. 


BUNGENER'S  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT. 

History  of  tlie  Council  of  Trent.  From  the  French  of  L.  F.  Bunge- 
NER,  Author  of  "  The  Priest  and  the  Huguenot."  Edited,  from 
the  Second  English  Edition,  by  John  M'Clintock,  D.D.  12mo, 
Muslin,  $1  00. 

Most  persons  know  that  the  Council  of  Trent  was  a  product  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, but  comparatively  few,  we  suspect,  know  much  about  its  history.  Those 
who  wish  to  know  (and  it  is  a  matter  worth  knowing)  will  find  ample  means  of 
information  in  this  volume.  *  *  *  He  (the  author)  is  clear  in  statement,  subtle 
and  consecutive  in  his  logic,  and  steers  as  far  from  dullness  as  from  sourness. — 
Perthshire  Advertiser. 

It  is  aU  that  a  history  should  be— perspicuous  in  language,  discriminating  in 
detail,  dignified  and  philosophical  in  manner,  candid  and  faithful  in  the  narration 
of  facts,  and  bears  evident  traces  of  extensive  reading  and  enlarged  information. 
— Caledonian  Meecury. 

This  history  is  invaluable.— CArz'sfmn  Advocate. 

Characterized  by  clearness,  truthfulness,  and  vigor  in  the  narrative,  acuteness 
and  terseness  in  the  reasoning,  and  a  spirit  of  Christian  fidelity  and  charity. — 
Watchman. 

The  work  before  us  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  very  best  that  has  appeared  on 
the  subject.  The  writer  has  abundant  materials,  and  has  used  them  with  fidelity, 
impartiality,  and  talent.  His  brilliant  style  radiates  in  every  department  of  the 
M^ork. — Philadelphia  Eveimig  Bulletin. 

A  work  of  permanent  interest,  which  should  be  well  understood  by  the  ministry 
of  our  church  and  country. — Christian  Observer. 

It  is  adapted  for  popular  reading  ;  while,  as  a  true  portraiture  of  men  and  things 
in  the  Council,  it  is  invaluable  to  the  theologmn.— Christian  Intelligencer. 


MEXICO  AND  ITS  RELIGION; 

Or,  Incidents  of  Travel  in  that  Country  during  Parts  of  the  Years 
1851-52-53-54,  with  Historical  Notices  of  Events  connected 
-with  Places  Visited.  By  Robert  A.  "Wilson.  Wiih  Illustra- 
tions.    12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

This  is  a  record  of  recent  travel  in  various  parts  of  Mexico,  including  full  sta- 
tistical details,  historical  reminiscences  and  legends,  and  descriptions  of  society, 
manners,  and  scenery.  A  large  portion  is  devoted  to  the  influence  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  relates  many  piquant  narratives  in  illustration  of  the  subject.  The 
author  writes  in  a  lively,  graphic,  and,  sometimes,  humorous  style.  He  gives  a 
great  deal  of  valuable  information,  and  his  travels  can  not  fail  to  find  numerous 
readers  and  prove  a  most  popular  volume. 


SEYMOUR'S  JESUITS. 

Mornings  among  the  Jesuits  at  Rome.  Being  IsTotes  of  Conversa- 
tions held  with  certain  Jesuits  on  the  Subject  of  Religion  in  the 
City  of  Rome.  By  Rev.  M.  Hobart  Seymour,  M.A.  12mo, 
Mu'slin.  '75  cent^ 


LOSSING'S  PICTORIAL  FIELD-BOOK 

Of  the  Revolutiou ;  or,  Illustrations,  by  Pea  aud  Pencil,  of  the  His- 
tory, Biography,  Scenery,  llelics,  and  Traditions  of  the  War 
for  Independence.  2  vols,  Koyal  8vo,  Muslin,  §;8  00;  Sheep, 
$9  00;  Half  Calf,  $10  00;  Full  Morocco,  815  00. 

A  new  and  carefully  revised  edition  of  this  magnificent  work  is  just  completed 
in  two  imperial  octavo  volumes  of  equal  size,  containing  1500  pages  and  1100  en- 
gravings. As  the  plan,  scope,  and  beauty  of  the  work  were  originally  developed, 
eminent  literary  men,  and  the  leading  presses  of  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain,  pronounced  it  one  of  the  most  valuable  historical  productions  ever  issued. 

The  preparation  of  this  work  occupied  the  author  more  than  four  years,  during 
which  he  traveled  nearly  ten  thousand  miles  in  order  to  visit  the  prominent  scenes 
of  revolutionary  history,  gather  up  local  traditions,  and  explore  records  and  his- 
tories. In  the  use  of  his  pencil  he  was  governed  by  the  determination  to  withhold 
nothing  of  importance  or  interest.  Being  himself  both  artist  and  writer,  he  has 
been  able  to  combine  the  materials  he  had  collected  in  both  departments  into  a 
work  possessing  perfect  unity  of  purpose  and  execution. 

The  object  of  the  author  in  arranging  his  plan  was  to  reproduce  the  history  of 
the  American  Revolution  in  such  an  attractive  manner,  as  to  entice  the  youth  of 
his  country  to  read  the  wonderful  story,  study  its  philosophy  and  teachings,  and 
to  become  familiar  with  the  founders  of  our  Republic  and  the  value  of  their  labors. 
In  this  he  has  been  eminently  successful ;  for  the  young  read  the  pages  of  the 
'  Field-Book"  with  the  same  avidity  as  those  of  a  romance  ;  while  the  abundant 
stores  of  information,  and  the  careful  manner  in  which  it  has  been  arranged  and 
set  forth,  render  it  no  less  attractive  to  the  general  reader  and  the  ripe  scholar  of 
more  mature  years. 

Explanatory  notes  are  profusely  given  upon  every  page  in  the  volume,  and  also 
a  brief  biographical  sketch  of  every  man  distinguished  in  the  events  of  the  Revo. 
iution,  the  history  of  whose  life  is  known. 

A  Supplement  of  forty  pages  contains  a  history  of  the  Naval  Operations  of  the 
Revolution  ;  of  the  Diplomacy  ;  of  the  Confederation  and  Federal  Constitution ; 
the  Prisons  and  Prison  Ships  of  New  York;  Lives  of  the  Signers  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  and  other  matters  of  curious  interest  to  the  historical  student. 

A  new  and  very  elaborate  analytical  index  has  been  prepared,  to  which  we  call 
special  attention.  It  embraces  eighty-five  closely  printed  pages,  and  possesses 
rare  value  for  every  student  of  our  revolutionary  history.  It  is  in  itself  a  com- 
plete synopsis  of  the  history  and  biography  of  that  period,  and  will  be  found  ex- 
ceedingly useful  for  reference  by  every  reader. 

As  a  whole,  the  work  contains  all  the  essential  facts  of  the  early  history  of  our 
Republic,  which  are  scattered  through  scores  of  volumes  often  inaccessible  to  the 
great  mass  of  readers.  The  illustrations  make  the  whole  subject  of  the  American 
Revolution  so  clear  to  the  reader  that,  on  rising  from  its  perusal,  he  feels  thorough- 
ly acquainted,  not  only  with  the  history,  but  with  every  important  locality  made 
memorable  by  the  events  of  the  war  for  Independence,  and  it  forms  a  comple;e 
Guide-Book  to  the  tourist  seeking  for  fields  consecrated  by  patriotism,  which  lie 
scattered  over  our  broad  land.  Nothing  has  been  spared  to  make  it  complete,  re- 
liable, and  eminently  useful  to  all  classes  of  citizens.  Upward  of  TIIIRTY-FIYE 
THOUSAND  DOLLARS  were  expended  in  the  publication  of  the  first  edition. 
The  exquisite  wood-cuts,  engraved  under  the  immediate  supervision  of  the  author, 
from  his  own  drawings,  in  the  highest  style  of  the  art,  required  the  greatest  care 
in  printing.  To  this  end  the  eflbrts  of  the  publishers  have  been  directed,  and  we 
take  great  pleasure  in  presenting  these  volumes  as  the  best  specimen  of  typogra- 
phy ever  issued  from  the  American  press. 

The  publication  of  the  work  having  been  commenced  in  numbers  before  its 
preparation  was  completed,  the  volumes  of  the  first  edition  were  made  quite  un- 
equal in  size.  That  defect  has  been  remedied,  and  the  work  is  now  presented  in 
two  volumes  of  equal  size,  containing  about  780  pages  each. 


WOMAN  S  RECORD ; 


Or,  Sketches  of  all  Distinguished  Women  from  the  Creation  to  the 
Present  Time.  Arranged  in  Four  Eras.  With  Selections  from 
Female  Writers  of  each  Era.  By  Mrs.  Sarah  Josepha  Hale. 
Illustrated  Avith  230  engraved  Portraits.  Second  Edition,  re- 
vised and  enlarg^ed.  Royal  8vo,  Muslin,  $3  50 ;  Sheep,  $4  00; 
Half  Calf,  $4  25. 

"  Many  years  have  been  devoted  to  the  preparation  of  this  comprehensive  work, 
wiiich  contains  complete  and  accurate  sketches  of  the  most  distinguished  women 
in  all  ages,  and,  in  extent  and  thoroughness,  far  surpasses  every  previous  bio- 
graphical collection  with  a  similar  aim.  Mrs.  Hale  has  ransacked  the  treasures 
of  history  for  information  in  regard  to  the  eminent  women  whom  it  commemor- 
ates ;  few,  if  any,  important  names  are  omitted  in  her  volumes,  while  the  living 
celebrities  of  the  day  are  portrayed  with  justness  and  delicacy.  The  picture  of 
woman's  life,  as  it  has  been  developed  from  the  times  of  the  earliest  traditions  to 
the  present  date,  is  here  displayed  in  vivid  and  impressive  colors,  and  with  a 
living  sympathy  which  could  only  flow  from  a  feminine  pen.  A  judicious  selec- 
tion from  the  writings  of  women  who  have  obtained  distinction  in  the  walks  of 
literature  is  presented,  affording  an  opportunity  for  comparing  the  noblest  produc- 
tions of  the  female  mind,  and  embracing  many  exquisite  gems  of  fancy  and  feel- 
ing. The  biographies  are  illustrated  by  a  series  of  highly-finished  engravings, 
which  form  a  gallery  of  portraits  of  curious  interest  to  the  amateur,  as  well  as  of 
great  historical  value. 

This  massive  volume  furnishes  an  historical  portrait  gallery,  in  which  each  aga 
of  this  world  had  its  appropriate  representatives.  Mrs.  Hale  has  succeeded  ad- 
mirably in  her  biographical  sketches. — Philadelphia  Presbyterian. 

"  Woman's  Record"  is,  indeed,  a  noble  study  and  noble  history.  The  sketches 
are  all  carefully  and  even  elegantly  written. — Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 

What  lady,  who  takes  a  pride  in  her  sex,  would  not  desire  to  have  this  volume 
on  her  centre-table  1  and  what  husband,  lover,  or  brother  would  leave  such  a  wish 
ungratified. —  Washington  Republic. 

This  superb  monument  of  Mrs.  Hale's  indefatigable  devotion  to  her  sex  is  illus- 
trated by  230  portraits,  engraved  in  that  style  of  excellence  that  has  deservedly 
placed  Lossing  at  the  head  of  his  profession. —Philadelphia  Saturday  Courier. 

We  are  pleased  with  the  plan  of  the  "  Record,"  and  with  the  manner  in  which 
that  plan  is  carried  into  execution.  The  book  is  a  valuable  and  permanent  con- 
tribution to  literature.— iVefw  Orleans  Baptist  Chronicle.  , 

This  work  merits  the  warmest  commendation. — Sun. 

This  is  a  large  and  beautiful  book,  and  covers  the  ground  marked  out  by  the  title 
more  fully  and  satisfactorily  than  any  other  work  e.xtant.  It  is  a  most  valuable 
work. — Southern  Ladies^  Companion. 

Here  we  have  placed  before  us  a  book  that  would  do  credit  to  any  author  or 
compiler  that  ever  lived,  and,  to  the  astonishment  of  some,  produced  by  the  head, 
heart,  and  hand  of  a  woman.— iV.  Y.  Daily  Times. 

This  is  a  very  curious  and  very  interesting  work— a  Biographical  Dictionary  of 
all  Distinguished  Females — a  work,  we  believe,  quite  unique  in  the  history  of 
literature.  We  have  only  to  say  that  the  work  will  be  found  both  instructive, 
amusing,  and  generally  impartial. — London  Ladies^  Messenger. 

The  comprehensiveness  of  the  work  renders  it  a  valuable  addition  to  the  library. 
— London  Ladies^  Companion. 

A  Female  Biographical  Dictionary,  which  this  volume  really  is,  will  often  be 
consulted  as  an  authority  ;  and  the  great  extent  of  Mrs.  Hale's  information  as  to 
the  distinguished  women  of  modern  times,  supplies  us  witti  a  number  of  facts 
which  we  knew  not  Vvhere  to  procure  elsewhere.  It  is  clearly  and  simply  written 
—London  Gardian. 


HARPER'S  STORY  BOOKS. 

A  Monthly  Series  of  Narratives,  BiOGRAniiEs,  and  Tales,  for  the 
Instructioa  and  Entertainment  of  the  Young.  By  Jacob  Ab- 
bott.    Embellished  with  numerous  and  beautiful  Engravings. 

Terms. — Each  Number  of  "  Harper's  Stor^-  Books"  will  contain 
160  pages  in  small  quarto  form,  very  beautifully  illustrated,  and 
printed  on  superfine  calendered  paper. 

The  Series  may  be  obtained  of  Booksellers,  Periodical  Agents, 
and  Postmasters,  or  from  the  Publishers,  at  Three  Dollars  a  year, 
or  Twenty-five  Cents  a  Number  in  Paper,  or  Forty  Cents  a  Num- 
ber bound  in  Cloth  gilt.  Subscriptions  may  commence  with  any 
Number.  The  Postage  upon  "  Harper's  Story  Books,"  which  must 
be  paid  quarterly  in  advance,  is  Two  Cents.  "Harper's  Magazine" 
and  "  Harper's  Story  Books '  will  be  sent  to  one  Address,  for  one 
year,  for  Five  Dollars. 

The  Quarterly  Volumes,  as  completed,  neatly  bound  in  Cloth  gilt, 
are  sold  at  One  Dollar  each,  and  Muslin  Covers  are  furnished  to 
those  who  wish  to  have  their  back  Numbers  uniformly  bound,  at 
Twenty-five  Cents  each. 

Vol.  I.  Contains  the  first  three  Numbers,  "Bruno,''  "Willie," 
and  "Strait  Gate." — Vol.  II.  "The  Little  Louvre,"  "Prank,"  and 
"Emma." — Vol.  Ill  "Virginia,"  "Timboo  and  Joliba,"  and  "Tim- 
boo  and  Fanny."— Vol.  IV.  "The  Harper  Establishment,"  "Frank- 
lin," and  "  The  Studio." 

They  are  the  best  children's  books  ever  published.  They  wisely  avoid  the  in- 
troduction or  discussion  of  religious  topics,  yet  are  such  as  Christian  parents 
may  unhesitatingly  place  in  their  children's  hands.  The  price  is  marvelously 
low.  Twenty-five  cents  a  number  makes  it  about  six  pages  of  print  and  two  ex- 
cellent engravings  for  eace  cent  of  the  money.  The  engravings  alone,  without  a 
line  of  letter-press,  would  be  cheap  at  the  price.  One  good  thnig  these  Story  Books 
will  certainly  accomplish  :  henceforth  inferior  authorship  and  used-up,  worn  out 
illustrations  can  not  be  palmed  off  on  children.  They  have  samples  here  of  what 
is  best  for  them,  and  they  are  shrewd  enough  not  to  put  up  with  any  thing  of  low- 
er quality. — N.  Y.  Daily  Times. 

We  have  heard  so  many  fathers  and  mothers  who  recognize  the  pleasant  duty 
of  guiding  the  minds  of  their  children  in  the  paths  of  knowledge  at  home,  speak 
in  terms  of  the  highest  commendation  of  this  series  of  books  for  children,  that  wo 
feel  a  desire  to  see  them  universally  read  among  children.  They  constitute  the 
finest  series  of  books  for  the  young  that  we  have  seen.— Louisville  Courier. 

Who  is  better  qualified  than  Jacob  Abbott  to  prepare  such  a  work  ?  He  always 
seems  to  have  an  intuitive  perception  of  just  what  children  want— just  what  will 
take  with  them,  and  so  ser^^e  as  the  medium  of  conveying  instruction  in  the  pleas- 
antest  form.  He  has  begun  this  new  scries  admirably,  and  we  almost  envy  the 
relish  with  which  our  children  will  read  it.  Now  for  a  suggestion  to  parents  : 
instead  of  buying  your  boy  some  trumpery  toy,  give  him  a  year's  subscription  to 
this  charming  monthly.  It  will  cost  you  three  dollars,  indeed  ;  but  its  excellent 
moral  hints  and  influence,  its  useful  and  entertaining  knowledge,  are  worth  all 
that,  and  much  more.  If  you  think  you  can  not  afford  it  for  one  child,  take  it  for 
your  childrai's  home  circle,  and  let  one  read  it  aloud  to  the  others.  You'll  neve? 
regret  \t.— Christian  Inquirer. 


INEZ, 


A  Tale  of  the  Alamo.     12mo,  Muslin,  15  cents. 

We  have  to  recommend  the  book  to  pious  parents  and  guardians  as  written  un- 
der the  influence  ol'  the  strictest  Protestant  principles  ;  and  to  introduce  it  to  young 
ladies  in  general,  as  containing  some  very  nice  "  love,"  seasoned  pleasantly  with 
just  enough  fighting  to  make  the  whole  story  agreeable. — Leader. 

When  the  Texans  threw  off  the  Mexican  yoke  and  entered  into  our  National 
Confederacy,  no  portion  of  her  people  felt  the  change  more  keenly  than  her  Ro- 
mish priesthood,  and  especially  the  Jesuits.  Their  counter  and  insidious  duties 
of  social  and  domestic  life  is  the  moral  of  this  story.  The  lady  who  wrote  it  has 
studied  the  Romish  argument,  and  has  managed  it  with  effect.  It  is  not  a  book 
of  the  "  Maria  Monk"  stamp  ;  it  is  a  successful  refutation  and  exposure,  in  popu- 
lar form,  of  some  of  the  worst  points  of  the  Romish  syslem.— Church  Review. 

A  most  inviting  story,  the  interest  of  which  is  sustained  throughout  its  narra- 
tive of  stirring  events  and  deep  passions. — Mobile  Register. 

The  descriptions  of  scenes  of  carnage,  and  the  alarms  and  excitements  of  war 
are  graphic,  while  the  polemics  are  not  so  spun  out  as  to  be  tedious.  The  por- 
traiture of  the  Jesuit  padre  is  any  thing  but  flattering  to  the  Catholic  priesthood, 
while  her  dissertations  upon  the  doctrines,  traditions,  practices,  and  superstitious 
follies  of  the  Holy  Mother  Church  prove  her  to  be  no  respecter  of  its  claims  to  in- 
fallibility, and  no  admirer  of  the  disciples  of  Loyola. — Constitutionalist  and  Re- 
public, Ga. 

We  have  read  this  work  with  the  liveliest  pleasure,  and  we  venture  to  assert, 
that  no  one  can  take  it  up  without  going  through  with  it.— Richmo7i(l  Whig. 

LE  CURE  MANQUE; 

Or,  Social  and  Religious  Customs  in  France.  By  Eugene  de  Cour- 
ciLLOx.     12mo,  Muslin,  75  cents. 

The  autobiography  of  a  young  French  peasant  who  was  trained  for  the  Church. 
Its  specific  purpose  is  to  give  an  account  of  the  social  and  rural  life  and  supersti- 
tions of  the  peasants  of  Normandy,  and  to  show  the  relations  existing  between 
them  and  their  priests.  The  author  also  describes,  in  a  very  interesting  manner, 
the  routine  and  customs  of  the  French  ecclesiastical  seminaries. 

"Le  Cure  Manque  is  a  curious  work,  for  its  pictures  of  French  peasant  man- 
ners, its  account  of  village  priests,  and  its  quiet  but  bitter  satire  on  the  selfishness 
of  the  Romanist  country  clergy,  and  the  ignorance  in  which  they  leave  their  flocks. 
The  filling  up  of  the  story  shows  remarkable  skill,  for  the  easy  natural  way  in 
which  it  carries  out  the  authors  intention  of  exhibiting  "  social  and  religious  cus- 
toms" in  provincial  France. — London  Spectator. 

The  strange  stale  of  society^  with  its  French  and  Papal  habits  which  it  por- 
trays, will  set  new  facts  before  the  mind  of  even-traveled  Tea.Aers.— Presbyterian 
Banner. 

Le  Cure  Manque  (the  Unfinished  Priest)  is  a  title  which  very  accurately  con- 
veys an  idea  of  what  the  book  is.  It  lets  the  public  behind  the  scenes  in  a  remark- 
able manner,  and  is  one  of  the  most  readable  books  of  the  season.— .Y.Y.  Daihj 
Times. 

A  most  agreeable  and  entertaining  narrative,  opening  to  most  American  readers 
novel,  strange,  and  (many  of  them)  charming  scenes.  Though  the  Church  may 
be  a  loser  (which  is  doubtful,  however),  the  world  has  certainly  been  a  gainer  by 
his  apostacy  from  his  sacred  calling. — Savannah  Journal. 

The  exposition  of  the  Romish  ceremonials,  and  of  the  subjecture  of  the  masses 
of  the  French  people  to  priestcraft  are  peculiarly  interesting.  We  quote,  "  How 
a  mass  may  be  said  for  a  pig,  and  refused  for  a  Protestant."— .Y.  Y.  Commereial 
Advertiser. 


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